The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Lightning Thief
by Yugioash
Summary: Just when I think I can have a normal school year living with my mother for the first time in five years, someone screwed it up by stealing Zeus' Master Bolt during the Winter Solstice meeting during my absence. What's worse, Hades is sending his minions after me again. I just hope I can find the Master Bolt and stop the thief before war breaks out. Percy's POV
1. Prologue

**The Tales of the Son of Poseidon and the Olympians**

 **The Lightning Thief**

 **Prologue**

The first semester of the school year was great. I joined the swim meet team which made me feel normal. All I had to do was willed the water on me to make sure no one finds out that I'm a demigod.

Best part was thanks to ancient Greek lessons and tutoring, my grades actually improved since I was seven. I was no genius like Athena's kids, but at least now I don't have to worry about failing my classes.

Honestly I would be one of the most popular jocks in school if it wasn't for Grover pretending to be a disable boy. Not that it matters. I wouldn't give up Grover for the popularity of the world.

Now Grover and I were in school heading to class.

"Are you ready for the Field Trip to the Metropolitan Museum tomorrow?" Grover asked.

"I guess, but it's not like we're learning anything we already know," I responded.

"True," Grover responded, "Don't yu have a swim meet tonight?"

"As long as the big guy doesn't have another fit," I responded.

The past swim meets were canceled due to some kind of complications due to Zeus' rage. It seems that since Winter Break Nature was fighting with itself, which meant Zeus and my dad were fighting with each other. However, since I spend winter break with my mother, I had no clue why. Annabeth and Luke wouldn't tell me anything in our messages.

I would of thought by now Chiron would call me back to camp to keep me safe, but we haven't had any word. Which is odd since Chiron went to an extent to keep me safe the past five years.

That night I just finished my meet, and headed for the showers to change.

"Percy, be careful," my father's voice echoed in my head.

I turned around but didn't see anything.

"Yo Percy! Come on!" said one of my teammates.

"Right," I responded, "Be right there."

I took a look around but nothing was there. I'm starting to wonder if I should of returned to camp for Winter break and attend the Winter Solstice Meeting.

Little did I know, my choice has effected everyone around me and soon, it would my turn to follow my destiny.

* * *

 **A/N:** I thought of giving Percy an extra curricular activity that makes him feel normal in school.


	2. I Crash The Replica Of The Argo's Mast

**I Crash Replica** **Of** **The Argo's Mast**

First thing to know about my school, my mom got me into a school it has a Latin Class that also teaches Greek and Roman Mythology. Now, Latin wasn't my best subject, but when it comes to Greek and Roman mythology, I'm a bit of a nerd. Hard for me not to after reading Hal's book and five years of Ancient Greek Class in Camp Half-Blood.

As for the Field Trip, it was a near the end of the year trip before the finals. It was the teacher's way to help us relax while helping us prepared for the Greek and Roman part of the test.

Now here we are at the back of the bus heading to the Metropolitan Museum.

"I hope they don't try to put me on the spot," I grumbled.

As much as I wanted to go on this field trip, there's one thing I'm not looking forward too. Even before I was attacked by a hellhound, teachers always seem to put me on the spot by testing me to make sure I was paying attention and not being _just lazy_. It was worse when I was learning how to spell.

"I wouldn't worry about it. They haven't tried to put you on the spot in this class since the first month of school."

I smirked. It was true. It didn't take long for teachers to find out I was ADHD and Dyslexia. However for some reason, my Latin Teacher either didn't get the message at first or didn't believe them because he did little to none to help me with the Latin Portion.

So when we got to the Greek and Roman stories, he tried to put me on the spot of catching me being lazy by questioning me about what he just mentioned and every time I answered correctly. After a month, he finally decided to give up and admit defeat that my problem problems with learning Latin was due to my dyslexia. It's hard to argue whether a kid is lazy and not ADHD and Dyslexic when the kid has a topic they're best at.

…

We arrived at the museum we had the usual tour. Most of my class were bored only five minutes into the tour.

When we got to the chariot modeled after the one Athena made with Poseidon's help by supplying the horses, I couldn't help but smile.

Back at camp, before Chiron ended it due to the death and injuries, we use to have chariot races. Annabeth and I were too young at the time to participated as Chiron tried to at least have campers at least twelve years old, but that didn't stop us from secretly planning our own Poseidon and Athena style Chariot since Luke was allowed to participate. We never got the chance to use the plans, but we kept it as a reminder that when Athena and Poseidon do work together, something can be accomplished.

Next was the mosaic of the twelve task of Heracles or if you want to call him, Hercules. One of the Mosaics was of Hercules stealing the apples of the Garden of Hesperides—the quest Luke took thousands of years later but failed.

I don't know why, but when I saw that, but when I saw that, my sword-pen Riptide seem to grow heavier in my pocket. I had to admit, I always wondered what was so special about Riptide that my dad sealed it up along with Thalia's shield Aegis in Hal's place ever since I came to Camp-Half-Blood. At first I thought it was because it can turn into a pen, or return to my pocket, but after a week in Camp Half-Blood, I learned that it wasn't rare to find weapons enchanted like that—in fact the children of Hephaestus—God of Forge—could make those kind of weapons. But for it to feel heavy just as I'm listening to the teacher talk about random facts of the task while I look at it was weird.

I tried to ask Chiron once if he knew anything of any sword called Ankalomus to see if maybe there's connections to the sea or my father like Aegis is connected to Zeus. But when he examined the sword he gave me a grim look and said that he would explain things when I'm older.

We were about to head to the hall of the gods—which were really just statues paintings mosaics etch of each Olympian—when I had a sudden chill down by back that I haven't felt in five years—a chill with a sense of danger.

"Percy—" Grover said.

"I know," I responded, "let's try to move to somewhere out of mortal eyes."

Grover nodded with fear. We snuck into an exhibit that didn't seem so crowded.

We back tracked to the Argonaut exhibit with a model of the mast of the _Argo_. Seeing that mast position gave me an idea. Sadly, I would have to destroy an exhibit and cause trouble.

"Where is it?" a voice echoed.

"What?" I asked.

Grover shrugged.

An old withered lady with a leather jacket came out. "Where is it?" she asked.

Although she was in a form of an old lady, I knew we were in trouble. I seen that form before when Luke Thalia Annabeth and I took that detour to Manhattan.

"Tell me where is it and I might kill you swiftly and painlessly," the old lady said.

I draw out my pen and uncapped it, allowing it to transform into Riptide. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I know better to trust one of _them_.

"Very well!" she said.

Her leather jacket melted into wings as her fingers turned into claws her skin turned gray and a mouth full of teeth—basically her true form was one of the furies.

She lunged at me head first. I ducked and rolled to avoid the attack.

"Grover, distraught her!" I yelled.

Grover nodded and took out his reed pipes from his backpack and started blowing a tune through it. Grover's musical skills weren't very great, but it's not the worse believe it or not. But even I know the Nature magic used in the tunes can be effective, and Grover have been practicing since Thalia's sacrifice.

The fury started flying around in distraught, but I knew it wouldn't last long. I started using the artifacts around me to get to the Mast. Some how after using a _stele_ —Ancient Greek Grave marker—to jump onto the mast I struggled to stay on it. If it wasn't for all that training I had in Camp Half-Blood, I probably wouldn't even made it this far.

At this point the Fury broke out of her trance and started going at Grover. I didn't have much time. There were webs of rope around each end of the mast. I prayed to Athena—hoping I was right.

I cut my way through each rope on one end until the last rope was half way so when I'm done with the other rope, the strain would cause it to snape.

I looked back at Grover and saw he struggling against the Fury as it decided to use fire whips. I manage to turn myself around almost falling off and maneuver around the center rope—thankfully not falling off, and worked my way to the other end.

Grover must of knew what I was doing because he started maneuvering the Fury into strike range as I worked on the final ropes. I cut through the final rope. The rope I cut half way snapped and with the mast swinging it came right at the fury and smashed her turning the Fury into dust

As for me I quickly called on water from a near by bathroom really hoping no one was in there. Water fired out like a wave and caught me saving me from the fall. Right now I didn't want to know where all the water in the bathrooms came from, but let's just say, after today, I'm going to take a shower just to be safe.

"Percy, that was one of the riskiest moves I seen," Grover said.

"It worked didn't it?" I asked.

Grover shook his head in disbelief. "We better leave. I think it's times to take you back."

I knew what Grover meant—time to go back to Camp. As much as I hate to admit it, but the way the Fury was after me meant only one thing, after lasting most of the school year in peace, Hades out for me again.


	3. The Fates Pays Me a Visit

**The Fates Pays Me a Visit**

Well, it's safe to say on top of leaving the scene of the Argo Mast without using Mist Manipulation to make ourselves look like the victim, I'm pretty sure we're expelled for ditching our class and then leaving the museum without telling someone.

Grover and I decided to try and get as far away from the Museum as we can by foot, and then call a taxi. But first we stopped at an alleyway to catch our breath since we had to leave in an emergency before being able to recover from our fight with the Fury.

Grover was in pretty good condition—other than the few scratches and burns—consider he was face to face with his worse nightmare. Ever since the furies chased us after the Cyclops lair incident, and Thalia's sacrificed, Grover been more scared of the furies than he ever was before. But the fact Grover was willing to go toe-to-toe with just one of them to help me makes me glad I requested for Grover to be my protector.

What got me curious is Hades hasn't send a minion after me through most of the school year, so why now? Does it have to do with Zeus' fits or is there more to it?

"We better go," Grover said.

"Right," I responded as I got up. "Hey Grover, you think I made the right choice not attending the Winter Solstice meeting this year?"

Grover hesitated with his answer, which was never a good sign. "Yeah, I'm sure. If they decided to kill you for not attending, they would have done it already."

True. What kept me alive so far was that Zeus demanded that while I live in camp that I attend the winter solstice meeting so the council can decide whether or not to kill me. But I wasn't in camp this school year, and I didn't attend the meeting. But considering the fact that Grover was hesitant meant he wasn't sure either.

We walked down the street trying to avoid eye contact. Grover stood in front of me, keeping an eye out for monsters. Which I had to admit must have looked weird to the mortals since Grover was the one in crutches to them and I'm not.

We made it down a few blocks before Grover stopped suddenly and I tripped over him. Grover's eyes were wide as if he was scared. I look ahead where he was staring and I understood why.

In front of us were three old ladies—at least at first they looked like old ladies. The kind that Mortal humans might think are old enough to go into nursing homes or be living with a relative and not be on the side of the street. Each were sitting in a rocking chair on the sidewalk facing us knitting socks the size of—well—sweater. Each had pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

What scared me was that they were looking at me as the one on the right knitted the right sock, the one on the left knitted the left sock and the one in the middle held electric blue yarn.

 _The Fates,_ I thought.

It's never good when the fates shows up in front of someone. It usually mean that person is going to die, or in rare cases someone close to them whose fate is intertwine with theirs will die.

Now I know what you're thinking. Doesn't the Fates sow tapestries and all that like in the movies? Well, they did, but not exactly like in the movies. But when Olympus shifted to country to country—wherever the will of fire burn brightest—through the centuries, for some reason, the Fates decided that sewing sock were better than tapestries.

Just what I need today. A fury attack and the Fates showing up in front of me. I was attempted to say who else want to show up or what else could go wrong, but that would be a bad idea since most of the time when demigod does that, something else always happen and most of the time it always is bad.

Nothing against the Fates. They're just doing their job as goddess of—well—Fate. But after the fury attack, the last thing I need to know is that either I or someone I know will die.

 _Hold on, it might not be that bad. They haven't took out the scissors,_ I thought.

Just as I thought that the Fate in the middle took out a huge scissors—gold and silver, long-bladed like shears. And I felt as if my heart was going crazy in fear.

"Let's call on a taxi!" Grover responded

"Yeah!" I agreed. I turned to the street and made the loudest taxi whistle I ever did in my life.

A taxi pulled up in time. Grover first entered with his crutches and I soon followed.

But before I entered the cab, I swear I heard the _snip_ of the yarn as if I was next to it.

I entered the cab and told the driver the street address of my mother's apartment and promised an extra five dollars if he get us there fast.


	4. My First Fight With The Minotaur

**My First Fight With The Minotaur**

Despite how some movies depict the Fates, when the Fates Cut the yarn, it doesn't necessarily mean immediate death, it just means you or someone whose destiny is intertwine with yours will die. But you never know when or how that will happen or if it is you or someone you know or will know. The Fates are mysterious that way. If they weren't then everyone who sees them and know who they are will try everything in their power to defy their fate.

The only thing is, how am I going to break this to my mom?

She hasn't changed much since she picked me up. She was still kind and carrying person. But when it comes to me being in danger she wouldn't hesitate to show her protective mother side.

Grover and I arrived at the apartment complex and after I paid the cab driver we immediately went inside—not wanting to take risk being out in the open unless we have too.

We headed to the Jackson Family and Friends apartment and I reached for my keys, thanking gods he decided to bring them to the field trip today instead of locked up in my locker. He also thanked the gods that today was the day that today she took a day off to work on her studies.

A year after I settled into Camp Half-Blood, my mom finished up her night classes and got her high school diploma and was able saved up enough money to attend New York University for a Bachelors degree in writing.

I didn't tell her, but I'd been silently praying to Annabeth's mother Athena to help my mom out. Athena and my dad may never get along, but I had hopes that Athena would let it slide to help my mom. I think Annabeth even been praying too her mother to help my mom out, even if she wouldn't admit it.

I unlocked the door and they headed in. Not much has changed over the five years. My mom has me train basic hero stuff on the roof after I accidentally destroyed a vase.

"Mom!" I yelled.

It didn't take long for my mom to appeared—which I'm not surprise since technically I should still be in school.

My mom hasn't changed over the five years, except maybe a few more gray strands, that I wouldn't bring up.

"Percy, Grover, what happened?" she asked.

We told her about the museum and the counter with the fates. As I expected, my mother paled when I mention The Fates cutting the cord.

"We need to pack and head to camp," Grover said.

"Yes, of course go head," Sally said. "I'll contact the camp to let them know you two will be heading there a week early."

"Thanks, mom," I responded.

I headed to my room as Grover headed to the guest room which had temporarily became his room during his stay here.

Once in my room, I threw out everything in my backpack that was school related and started packing my gear as well as my Camp Half-Blood T-Shirt as well as some spared clothes, Hal's book, a canteen of nectar and a bag full of ambrosia—you never know when you need food of the gods.

Once I was packed up I headed out to meet my mom—who just hanged up on a phone.

Normally demigods can't use phones to call each other or use Phones in camp—attracts too much monsters. So the Rainbow goddess of messages: Iris opened up her rainbow messaging to demigods, and make money off it too. All we have to do is create a rainbow, pray to Iris, throw in a drachma—Ancient Greek money that been modified for today's demigods—and call out who you want to talk to. However, for parents that knows about the Olympians that need to contact the camp in times of emergency, Chiron does keep a cellphone and computers in a celestial bronze sealed room for such occasions.

I remember the day after I made it to Camp, Chiron lend me his cellphone to call my mom. I was still depressed of what happened to Thalia and my mom could tell the moment I first said something that something was wrong. Now I'm afraid I might face death like Thalia, only this time it's most likely I won't be turning into a tree.

 _Calm down, we don't know for sure when exactly or if I'll die,_ I thought.

It wasn't long before Grover joined and we got into my mom's car.

…

If there's one thing I'm grateful for is my mom's clear vision. If it wasn't for that, we would be completely blinded by rain that hit us immediately after we left Manhattan.

While most mortals parked on the side of the road or some kind of parking lot to wait for the rain to calm down, we were racing toward Long Island New York. I even used the Mist around us to make our car look like an emergency vehicle to Mortals so no one would try to stop us until we were on the country road.

It wasn't long before I recognized the scenery outside—a combination of farm land and woods. This was the road Thalia Luke Annabeth Grover and I were taking five years ago. However something else was going on in my mind.

"What is going out there?" I asked. "Why is trouble stirring up now?"

"I don't know—maybe Chiron can answer that," Mom told me.

"Let's hope we can get there," Grover said.

Leave it to Grover to be optimistic.

"I'm sure Chiron would explain things to you after we get you to camp," my mom said.

Lightning flashed outside. We turned to the strawberry fields. To a mortal it was nothing special, but to me, it meant we were almost there. Just as I was about to see Half-Blood Hill, I heard a bellowing roar.

"Did you guys—" Before I could finish my question my mom swearved the car dodging something. Before we regain control another object was thrown at us causing my mom to swerve and dodge it before striking a ditch and was trapped in there.

I looked outside to see what was thrown at us. It was cow. You got to be kidding me.

"Percy!" my mom shouted.

"I'm okay…" I responded

"Grover!"

"I'll live," Grover said.

"Percy," my mom said, "we have to…" Her voice fraltered.

I looked back and I wish I haven't. In a flash of lightning, through the mud spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road.

From the belly bottom down as well as it's arms it looked like the body of a muscle builder wearing only a pair of bright white Fruit and the Loom underwear but other than that was mostly fur and the head was not the head of a human—it was the head of a bull.

 _The Minotaur_ , I thought, _of all the monsters I had to face, why it had to be the Minotaur_.

See, ever since my half-brother Theseus killed the Minotaur for the first time, every time the Minotaur reformed (monsters reform from Tartarus days to centuries after they were destroyed depending on the monster) it doesn't waste time going after children of Poseidon. Of course it still kills other heroes and mortals, but no matter what its favorite target is a child of Poseidon.

"Percy," my mother said, deadly serious. "Get out of the car!"

Grover and I didn't hesitated. We tried shoving the door open but nothing happened.

"We don't have time for this!" Grover removed his pants and shoes, revealing his goat's hind-end and kicked the back glass—shattering it to pieces. He put his hoody on the edge as he got out.

My mom and I scrambled to the back and with Grover's help got out and slid down the trunk onto the ground.

Once on the ground I got a good look at Half-Blood Hill—the hill Thalia's tree was standing onto at since it was where Thalia made her sacrifice. I could see Thalia's tree through the rain.

The Minotaur bellowed in rage. It might not see me, but I doubt it means it can't smell me.

"Mom, get to safety," I said drawing out my pen-sword—waiting for the moment to uncapped it.

"Percy—"

"Grover, keep my mom safe," I ordered.

Grover reluctantly nodded. While in Camp, I learn that all heroes have fatal flaws—a flaw in their personality that makes them vulnerable. Mortals have it too but unless someone tries to exploit it, most mortals live most of their lives without knowing it. But for us demigods—whose lives are a constant battle between life and death—the last thing we need is to feel vulnerable.

Mine is personal loyalty—I would do anything to try and save those I cared about, or in some cases if something did happen to them I would do anything make whoever hurts them pay.

Pasiphae's son—a.k.a. the minotaur—was hunched over our car, snuffling and nuzzling in the windows, trying to sniff us out since it couldn't see us.

Then the minotaur bellowed in rage. He picked up the car by the windows, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded. Not good.

Another bellowed of rage and the bull-man started tromping uphill.

It smelled us. Definitely not good.

Thalia's pine tree was only a few more yards, but—as always—the hill was as steep and slick as ever.

The bull-man closed in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us. I jumped sideways at the last second.

It bellowed with frustration and turned, but not toward me, toward my mother and Grover.

We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see the valley of Camp Half-Blood. The big house disguise as a farmhouse from this angle was glowing yellow through the rain. But that was miles away. There was no way I could get help in time to save my mother and best friend.

The Minotaur grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing my mother, who was retreating slowly downhill with Grover backing her up.

Grover tried to play some music through his reed pipes that caused the plants to tangle around the monster. At first it worked but the Minotaur tore through them and started charging at them.

"No!" I chased after them, but it was too late. Grover tried to block the minotaur, but was swatted aside into a tree and was knocked out.

Then the Minotaur came at my mother, preventing her from sidestepping and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling.

I was only a few feet from them when the beast closed his fist around my mother's neck. But instead dying, she dissolved into a light, a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection.

Now mortals don't die like that, but I wasn't focus on that. I drew out riptide and with one mean slashed, cut off the hand of the Minotaur that held my mother.

I then swiped my sword into the Minotaur's side—it's weakness. But just as I made the final move, the minotaur also struck me with it's good hand and send me flying.

I hit the ground and slammed the back of my head on a sharp rock. When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I got to see my victory. The Minotaur turned into a golden dust—leaving the hand I decapitated which I didn't want.

The rain had stopped. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief. Something happened to my mother. That light show wasn't natural death-even in monster fighting term.

Maybe Annabeth can figure it out but right now Grover was still unconscious and I was barely able to stand. I need to get us to Camp Half-Blood.

I picked up Grover and hauled him up the hill, pass Thalia's tree, and stagger down into the valley, toward the lights of the big house.

The last thing I remember was collapsing on the wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around the yellow light, and a familiar voice yelling, "Oh my gods, Percy! Chiron! It's Percy—and Grover is with him."

I passed out before I knew who it was.


	5. My Talk With Chiron and Mr D

**Talk With Chiron and Mr. D**

I must've woken up several times. I woke up once to find my childhood friends—currently twelve year old Annabeth Chase and nineteen year old Luke Castellan watching over me, feeding me nectar and ambrosia.

"I think he's waking," Annabeth said.

"Percy, are you okay?" Luke asked, "What happened last night?"

"Minotaur—my mother—" I managed to croak before passing out again.

The second time I woke up, the camp guard Argos—a humanoid with hundreds of eyes all over his body dressed as a surfer—was watching me from the corner of the room.

When I finally came around for good, I was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch leading out to a meadow in the distance. I guess someone decided I needed fresh air. I could tell from the smell of strawberries that I was in Camp. There was a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that was great, but my mouth felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue was dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt.

On the table next to me was a tall drink of what looked like iced apple juice with a green straw and paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry. Nectar. Drink of the gods and medicine to half-bloods unless we consume too much, then it becomes poison.

I tried to pick it up to drink it, thinking it must be for me since I'm the only half-blood here, but my hand was so weak I almost dropped the glass once I got my fingers around it.

"Careful," a familiar voice said.

Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a weak. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops that covered his goat hind end, and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD—the camp's t-shirt.

The memory of the other night flooded in my mind.

"Pasiphae's son…"

"You destroyed it," Grover reinsured, "But your mother… I'm sorry Percy. I tried to save her. I really did. But I failed again."

"You tried your best. That's all anyone could ask for," I responded, "Maybe if I reacted in time—I don't know. How long I been out?"

Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days."

I stared across the meadow. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling the hills, with half-blood hill being the tallest, and as always the weather was well controlled.

See, in Camp Half-Blood we don't get rain, or tornadoes or any weather. Maybe snow during the winter holidays if the gods were feeling generous toward their year-round-camper kids, but never anything too severe.

My mother was gone. I don't know if she's dead or not. But until we know for sure, I'm once again year-round campers. See any demigod that lost their homes before coming here, or attract too many monsters, or just feel more at home here stay during the school year.

Grover was sniffling. This was his second chance and it went wrong two nights ago.

"How about help me with the Nectar since—you know?" I akse.d

Grover nodded and helped my glass and put the straw to my lips.

As always as when I drink nectar while recovering—it tasted like my mom's home made chocolate chip cookies. When I was done, my grief didn't go away, but I felt good enough to take on the Minotaur again.

"How do you feel?" Grover asked.

"Like I can fight Pasiphae's son again with better results," I responded.

"That's good," Grover said, "I don't think you could risk any more of that stuff."

I realized that they must have been feeding me the food of the gods, in hope that I would wake. That must be why my mouth felt like a scorpion's nest.

"Come on." Grover said. "Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."

…

The porch wrapped all the way around the Big House.

Grover told me that he placed the arm of the Minotaur in Attic of the Big House, where heroes kept their most _unwanted_ trophies of war—mementos of monsters heroes destroyed or survived fighting that we don't want. I never been up there since the memory of what happened to Luke's mother still fresh on my mind.

As we came around the opposite end of the house, I got a good view of Camp Half-Blood.

The valley marched all the way up to the north shores of Long Island. The water glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, the landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like the ancient Greek architecture in Hal's books—an open air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except they're not that old. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high-age campers were playing volley ball with satyrs. Some children of Hermes—Luke's half-brothers—unclaimed—who stays at Hermes Cabin until they're claimed—and minor gods/goddesses kids who were forced into Hermes Cabin due to their divine parent not having cabins—in bright orange T-shirts were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. There were children of Apollo shooting arrows at the archery range. Children of Demeter—goddess of harvest—and Aphrodite—goddess of love riding winged horses called Pegasi.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at the card table. Annabeth was leaning on the porch rail next to them. She had grown over the five years, but she was still the same.

She was the first to notice me and ran up to me to give me a friendly hug.

"Percy! Thank gods you're finally awake for good!" Annabeth responded, "Grover told Luke and me about your mom—I'm so sorry! She was a great woman."

"Thanks Annabeth," I responded.

One of the men who were still playing acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary—which for a demigod, I know it wasn't. The man was Dionysus—god of wine—who was here as a hundred year punishment for chasing after an off limits nymph. Dionysus was a small but porky man. He had a red nose, and watery eyes from being silvered due to his punishment—did I forget to mention that Dionysus can't use his power over wine nor drink any while he's punished. He also had curly hair so black that it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels—cherubs who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger patern Hawaiian shirt. Here we call him Mr. D, unless you were his kids—which he does have two demigod sons. And—unless you were one of his own kids—he _never_ gets your name right. It's not that he doesn't know our names, he just doesn't care about most demigods enough to get our names right.

The man across from him was Chiron—the centaur—except he was in a magical wheel chair that concealed is horse half and made his lower half look like the one of a wheelchair confined mortal—fake legs and all.

Chiron turned to me and smiled. His eyes had that mischievous glint that always put us demigods on our toes in what activity he might throw at us.

"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh goody, you're back. Don't expect me to be sympathetic because your mother died."

I guess I shouldn't be surprise. See, Mr. D was a demigod once too. In fact, he was a born again demigod. His mother died when she forced her love Zeus to reveal his true form to prove who he was. The mother didn't survive, but the baby did—prematurely. So Zeus tied Mr. D to his thigh until Mr. D developed enough to be born—again.

But that's not why Mr. D greeted me like that. See, my half brother Theseus made a deal with a princess Ariadne of creet that if she helped him survive the Minotaur's Labyrinth he would married her. However, Theseus didn't keep his end of the bargain—at least not complete it. He dumped Ariadne on a deserted island as he headed to Athens, where Mr. D found her and fell in love got married, and now both are immortal. But ever since that day, Mr. D saw heroes as the same thing as Theseus—except maybe his own kids but he won't admit it—and hold a deep grudge against children of Poseidon.

"Nice to meet you two, Mr. D," I responded as I scoot farther away from him because whenever the two of us are next to each other, we always got into some kind of argument.

"Annabeth, why don't you go inform Luke that Percy is awake?" Chiron said.

"Sure, Chiron." Annabeth said, "Talk to you later, Percy, and again, I'm sorry about your mom."

Annabeth headed off.

"I'm glad to see you alive, Percy. I must admit, I was worried when your mother called me to tell us you were coming back early this year," Chiron said.

"Grover," Mr. D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"

"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair. I decided to play too, just to stay on Mr. D's good side. Over the time I been here I learned how to play cards.

"Chiron—when the Minotaur tried to snap my mother's neck—she disappeared in a golden shower," I responded.

"You're wondering about it?" Chiron asked.

I nodded.

"Well, I do agree that snapping the neck don't normally cause that kind of effect—not by Pasiphae's son at least—I can't be for certain if she's not dead," Chiron said, "For all we know, it might have something to do with the winter solstice meeting."

"Yeah—what happened?" I asked, "I stayed home for one meeting and it seems that I missed out on something important."

"In good time, my lad. But for right now, I think it's best you get reacquainted in camp," Chiron said with a sympathetic look.

I made a bidding in pinochle.

"Still, hearing how you defeated one of the Kindly Ones and the Minotaur, I must admit, you exceed my expectation when I let you leave the camp."

Somehow I didn't feel so good about it.

"Oh, a royal marriage. Trick!" Mr. D cackled as he tallied up points.

"Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chewed it mournfully.

Mr. D waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.

"Mr. D," Chiron warned, "your restrictions."

Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.

"Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

The sky thundered.

Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the sora, and went back to his card game. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time—well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away—the second time he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp of half-bloods. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha! Absolutely unfair."

Mr. D sounded about six years old, like a pouting little kid, but I heard of all this before.

"I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

Mr. D sighed through his nose, as he'd been beaten by the centaur many times before. He got up, and Grover rose, too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, _again_ , about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D swept into the Big House, Grover following miserably.

Chiron rose from his wheelchair, causing his fake legs to disappeared and him to jump out in a centaur form.

"I must go to Master Archery Class, Percy," Chiron said, "As for what happened to your mother, I'm sorry."


	6. My Time Back In Camp

**My Time Back In Camp**

It's great to be back in camp. I been a camper for five years, if my beaded necklace was proof enough. I never go anywhere without the necklace. They were a reminder of my life here, and my first bead—which had a picture of a pine tree—was a reminder of Thalia's sacrifice to keep us safe.

See, at the end of the summer session all the camp counsellors come together and vote for the most eventful event of the summer—if not the whole year—and Hephaestus'—god of forge—kids will make the bead with a picture representing that event.

My first bead—as I said—was the pine tree for Thalia's sacrifice. The second bead was a centaur in a prom dress. We had a Centaur prom that year, and all I can say is that we're hoping that won't happen again. The third one was a trireme on fire on a blue lake. This represents a lake exercise that went horribly wrong. The fourth bead was a winged sneaker that represents Luke's quest since Hermes gave Luke a pair of winged shoes for the quest. The final bead was a silver arrow—representing the Hunters of Artemis' stay at camp for the summer and their reign as supreme once again in Capture the Flag.

Annabeth Luke and I been in camp longer than most demigods here—even longer than most camp counsellor who were college age. Most have either risk the real world and died and/or disappeared or is living their lives to their fullest as college students.

But right now, I didn't feel like a veteran demigod. Right now I felt like someone who is reliving a nightmare.

I passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other to give me sympathetic looks—I guess they heard about my mother—but at the same time hiding their looks of jealousy because I got to fight a Minotaur and survive.

I passed the strawberry fields where two chubby blonde boys—twin sons of Dionysus—were helping the Satyrs grow the strawberry fields while kids with with black hair and brown eyes—children of Demeter—were picking the strawberries.

We grow strawberries here to export and sell to restaurants in New York and Mount Olympus—which is right above the empire state building these days with it's own special magical button on the elevator that leads up to Mount Olympus floor. We maybe a secret camp, but we're still a camp, and like any other camp, we need money for expenses.

One of Demeter's daughters noticed me and waved at me. Like her siblings, she had black hair and brown eyes, and had a stern personality like her mother—Katie Gardner. I waved back respectively. Demeter's kids can be as stern as their mother, but when needed they can be supportive and kind.

Demeter Cabin was also one of the few biggest cabins in camp along with: Athena, Apollo: who—like Demeter—their Olympian parents claimed their kids immediately, and Hermes—which is overfilled due to the unclaimed and the minor godlings—demigod children of minor gods and goddesses.

There's many theories to why there are so many unclaimed—gods stop caring, or they don't pay much attention, no cabins for the minor gods, even one of Olympians want to wait until their kids meets their standards.

Watching the Satyrs, I was worried about Grover. I practically pushed the idea of him being my protector while I head home, and now he might lose his only chance in the career he wants—to search for Pan: Lord of Wildlife. Pan disappeared sometime during Ancient Greek times, and humans started polluting and destroying wildlife, and Satyrs search for Pan in hope to bring him back—that or protecting the wildlife themselves.

You know those Naturalist that would do anything to protect a tree, or endanger animals? Well there's a good chance that those leading it are a satyr or some kind of nature spirit.

Finally I made it to the assorted cabins that looped around a blazier-hearth in a U shape. Each cabin was for one of the Olympians, and just as each Olympian was different, each cabin was different. On the left is the cabins for the male Olympians and on the right is mostly for the females—except for the one in the far end as that's for Dionysus. His cabin was placed there since originally that was where Hestia's—goddess of the Hearth and Home—cabin would have been before she gave up her seat to Dionysus. Instead, we honor Hestia by keeping a hearth in camp, even though most demigods don't think much of it.

Even if Hestia did have a cabin, it would be honorary and empty, just like Hera's and currently Zeus' and Artemis. Hestia is one of the maiden goddesses and had no children. Artemis is a maiden goddess as well, but when ever her hunters visited they stay at Cabin Eight—Artemis' Cabin. No males were allowed in there—not unless you want to be turned into a Jackalope. Hera's is honorary because—being the goddess of magic—she refused to have any children with anyone other than her husband. Zeus' is empty because—well—because before Thalia was born, Zeus didn't have any half-blood children since World War II.

The only thing each cabin had in common was that each one was numbered with a brass number. The odds were on the left, and the evens were on the right. Cabin Nine—meant for Hephaestus' cabin—had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Cabin Four—Demeter's Cabin—had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Cabin Seven—Apollo's Cabin—seemed to be made out of gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. Cabin Eleven's—Hermes Cabin—was the only one that looked like an old fashion cabin with peeling paint and everything. Cabin six—Athena's Cabin was solid gray with gray curtains.

The only cabins that looked almost Identicle was Cabin one—for Zeus—and Cabin two—for Hera. They both were solid white and formal looking. Only difference was Hera's was smaller, Zeus' was more like a mausoleum while Hera's had pomegranates and flowers that helped make the cabin look graceful and each cabin's doors was design with each own symbol of power—Zeus' being a lightning bolt and Hera's being Peacock feathers.

"Hey Percy!" someone yelled.

I turned to see Luke running at me. He has grown over the five years, but the only difference in his appearance since I met him was the deep white scare the marred his face.

"Annabeth told me you were awake. How are you doing?" Luke asked.

"I been better," I responded.

"That's good," Luke responded. "Sorry about your mom, Percy. She was a sweet woman and she didn't deserve that."

By now I would be tired of being reminded about it, but I didn't mind hearing it from Luke.

"Thanks man," I responded.

"No problem," Luke pat me on the shoulder, "Listen if you want to work off some steam with sword practice, come and get me."

I'm glad Luke offered it. Over the years we learned that whenever I'm angry or frustrated sword practice helps me steam off.

"Thanks, Luke," I responded, "But right now, I think I'm going to settle in."

Luke nodded and said his goodbyes before leaving.

I turned to Cabin Three—Poseidon's Cabin—a long low building with windows facing the ocean. The cabin is made from rough sea stone, pieces of coral and seashell embedded into the outside walls, and a trident like the one that appeared above my head and led me to Luke and Thalia five years ago.

 _Back home, again,_ I thought.

However, before I could relax seeing it, there was a blaring sound coming from a really nasty bright red painted cabin with barbed wires lining the roof, and a stuff wild boar's head hung over the doorway. Ares Cabin.

Inside I could see Ares' kids—a bunch of mean looking kids, both girl and boys—although mostly boys—arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl a year or two older than me. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket with long string brown hair.

Clarisse le Rue—daughter of Ares and counsellor of Cabin Five—which she earned last year by challenging her predecessor after Chiron decided Annabeth would be the cabin counsellor of Athena's Cabin. If every camp has a camp bully, then Clarisse would be ours. She gives newbies swirly as part of her camp initiation, she beats up anyone that insulted her, and she has an attitude most loathed.

Clarisse noticed me and sneered at me with jealousy. I'm not surprise she's not giving me a sympathetic look. When she arrived at camp a year after Annabeth Luke and me and heard our story she decided to make herself our rivals since we had more real world experience than her.

"Hey Prissy!" Clarisse hollered her nickname for me, "I heard you beat the Minotaur and one of the Kindly Ones? Is it true or did you just got lucky?"

I ignored her and headed into Cabin Three.

Inside Cabin three the walls are made abalone. There were six bunk beds with silk sheets. There was a smell of salk water a sea breeze that reminded me of Montauk every time I came in here. I took my place on the only bunk that occupied, my bunk.

I laid down on my bed and looked up at a lower bunk. When I did, I noticed a letter attach to the top bunk. I took it and opened it.

 _Percy_

 _I heard of what happened. I'm sorry about your mom. She was a sweet woman. I just want you to know that I'll try everything in my power to find out what happened that night, but right now my hands are occupied with Olympus._

 _Be careful Percy. The Minotaur appearing last night was not a coincidence. Stay in camp for now, train hard, and most importantly be safe._

 _Poseidon_

I reread the letter over and over. What did dad mean _for now_? I would think he want me to stay in camp until whatever happened to my mom is resolved if not until college, but the way he had it was as if I was expected to leave camp soon.

My thoughts were broken when I heard a knock on my door. I got up and opened the door to see it was Annabeth.

"Annabeth, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"First to give you this," Annabeth handed Percy a brand new Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and some blue jeans, "Luke and I figured your old one was in the car when the Minotaur threw it."

"Thanks," I responded

"I also thought I check up on you and see if you want to walk and talk," Annabeth said, "That's if you want to stay in here grieving the rest of the day."

I thought of the letter, about what my dad said.

"Sure," I responded. "Just let me get change. I think I been wearing these clothes for two days."


	7. An Evening At Camp Half-Blood

**Evening At Camp Half-Blood**

Annabeth and I haven't talked while walking around the camp since the one year anniversary of Thalia's sacrifice, so I know when Annabeth requested this, she was doing it to help me grieve over my mother.

We stopped at the canoeing lake, where I told Annabeth what happened after Grover and I ditch the field trip due to us _damaging_ a replica up until our car crashed.

Annabeth froze when I brought up the fates.

"Maybe it meant your mother's death," Annabeth said.

"Maybe," I responded. I wasn't completely convinced. My mother didn't have to disappeared in golden shower of light to be killed by the Minotaur, but I knew better than to question it. In the real world where monsters and Olympians exist, anything can happen.

"Maybe you should consult the Oracle," Annabeth said.

"I'm good," I responded quickly.

Annabeth frowned at me. This is not the first time she brought up the Oracle, and this is not the first time I turned it down.

"What is it about the Oracle you scared of?" Annabeth asked.

"It's—not the Oracle I'm scared of necessarily," I responded which wasn't the full truth. I was terrified of the idea of what happened to Luke's mom would happen to me.

"Percy. The oracle means no harm," Annabeth said, "At least, when she's not giving a prophecy."

"Annabeth, just trust me. I don't want to go up there before I have to take on my first quest," I responded.

Annabeth studied me like she always do when I tried to be mysterious.

"Fine," Annabeth responded. "But you can't keep it a secret forever."

I rolled my eyes, as I heard this a dozen times before.

"By the way, has anything unusual happened during the winter solstice meeting?" I asked.

Annabeth hesitated. "What makes you think anything weird happened?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because the weather been acting like a certain god been having a hissy fit since the meeting," Percy responded.

The sky rumbled as if Zeus knew I was talking about him.

Annabeth clenched her fists. "I'm not sure to be honest. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. During the meeting, things seemed so _normal_. But then the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard the satyrs talking. The best I can figure is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble."

"They don't think it's me, do they?" I asked.

Annabeth shook her head. "I wouldn't be surprise if you were on their list of possible suspects, but I doubt it."

That should have been a sigh of relief for me, but it wasn't.

After we talked a little bit more, I could smell barbecue smoke coming from the pavilion causing my stomach to growl. We decided to head back to our cabins and get ready for dinner.

…

Unlike most counsellors, I didn't have to worry about making sure my siblings were back in Cabin Three in time for dinner. I didn't have to worry about making sure they were lined up when we head to the pavilion, and I don't have to worry about my cabin mates stealing from me at the dinner table, since the sitting arrangements in the dining pavilion is the same as the living arrangements in the cabins.

Yeah, it tends to be boring being the only child of Poseidon left alive to live in Cabin Three. In fact, when I was younger, I sometimes prayed that Poseidon send me a brother or sister.

When the dinner conch was blown I headed out and followed the rest of the campers to the dining pavilion. By campers, I don't mean just half-bloods. Satyrs, Lake Nymphs or Naiads, and tree nymph or dryads joined us as well.

There were at least a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted nymphs.

At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble colums. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. I sat at one of the four tables that were filled with campers—Poseidon's table.

I saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and Mr. D's twin sons Pollux and Castor. Chiron also joined them at Cabin twelve, but being in centaur form, he didn't sit down.

I saw Hermes table where Luke was sitting at—nicknamed the overcrowd table. Despite there being twenty campers there, only a few handfuls I knew were children of Hermes because—like Luke—they had elfish traits, upturn eyebrows, and a natural mischievous smile.

Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids with gray eyes and honey-blonde hair—all children of Athena.

Clarisse was behind Hermes' table, sitting in Ares' table. She was laughing and belching right alongside her.

Finally Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"

Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of healthy food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and barbecue. My glass was empty but only because I haven't requested my drink. See, the glasses were magically charmed to summon almost any kind of drink requested—as long as it's nonalcoholic of course.

"Blue Cherry Coke," I requested.

The soda filled with a cobalt version of Cherry Coke. Then I helped myself to smoke briskets, grapes, strawberries and everything I like. But instead of immediately eating, I got up with my plate and headed to the fire.

It's tradition that before we eat, we scrape some of our juicest or biggest portion to the flames as an offering to our divine parent.

When my turn came up, I took the biggest brisket I had.

"Poseidon," I said before adding, "Thanks for the letter, dad." I tossed the brisket into the fire.

Instead of a burning food smell most would expected I got the smell of non-burned food.

I headed back to my table and started eating.

When we were done, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention.

Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all of you. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels.

There was cheers from Ares table. I rolled my eyes. They only won because they allied themselves with Hermes and Hephaestus use Hermes' kids thievery skills and Hephaestus brains to beat us.

"Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

Everybody cheered. We all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around. And the best part was here we weren't divided by cabins. We could sit with whoever we want, and tonight, I was sitting with Annabeth and Luke.

Later in the evening, when the sparks from the camp fire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and we all headed back to our cabins. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I collapsed on my bunk and fell asleep instantly.

It was good to be back in Camp Half-Blood, I just wish it was under different circumstances.


	8. We Capture the Flag

**We Capture the Flag**

The next few days I got back into the camp routine of Camp Half-Blood—which involves training and lessons with satyrs, nymphs, and a centaur.

Being the only son of Poseidon, I decided to combine my schedule with Hermes' cabin's schedule in order to help the unclaimed get—well—claimed.

Each morning new campers in Hermes Cabin have Ancient Greek from Annabeth, and where they talk about the gods and goddesses in present tense.

The rest of the day we rotate through outdoors activities, looking for whatever the unclaimed were good at. There were some I had long given up trying to participate in—Archery mostly. I'm the worse in Archery. You would think after five years of training, I could at least get an arrow through the target, but not me. The closest I ever got was an inch far from the left of the target.

Then there was foot racing. That wasn't too bad. It's always funny though watching the newbies that loose to a dryad look humiliated about losing to a tree, but I sympathize with them since I was in their shoes once.

Wrestling was with Clarisse of Ares cabin, and of course she always try to pull me into a match just to humiliate me.

I of course participated with Canoeing. Being the son of Poseidon, I'm a natural at it even without having to command the canoe. It helps that I had the lake on my side.

Another thing I'm great at is Pegasus riding. Pegasus never hesitate to let a child of Poseidon to ride them, and since Pegasus—like horses and any horse like hybrid creature—were created by Poseidon, I can ride them even in Zeus' domain.

Only lessons I have on my own is my private lessons where I worked on my power over water. Being the only living son of Poseidon I don't have anyone to teach me what I can do. I only have this lesson during my free time to work on my skills, or during Archery and Ancient Greek Lessons.

Other than that, it was great to be back at camp. The morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, the weird sounds of monsters in the woods trying to break through the barrier.

I tried not to think of my mom, but at night, my mind kept wandering about what happened. It was just not natural—even for demigods.

…

Thursday afternoon, three days after I woke up, I had sword fighting lessons. No, I'm not a student. I'm actually one of the two teachers in the class—along with Luke. The two of us combine made such an efficient teachers that Chiron let us both teach it.

We started the class with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw stuffed dummies in Greek armor. Of course I took part in it to make sure I haven't lost my touch.

I stuck to Riptide in the lesson since none of the practice swords felt right. Not even the camp's balanced swords—which Riptide was—were working for me. It just seemed that only Riptide felt right in my hand, like it was destined for me, and yet I still have no clue if there were any history to it.

We moved up to dueling in pairs, and I was paired up with Chris Rodriguez. If you need proof that gods take their time claiming their kids, Chris was one of them. He had all the traits of a son of Hermes, but he hasn't been claimed.

Luke was working with another unclaimed—a new camper that arrived a week before I came back. We worked on thrust and parries and shield blocks.

By the time we called a break, I was soaked in sweat. Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler. Luke and I poored ice water on our heads. I felt a whole lot better, having my strength returned.

"Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered, "Hey, Percy, I might need your help with this one."

"Sure!" I responded.

The Hermes guys and unclaimed gathered around with expectations. They seen the two of us go at each other in practice before, and when we do a demonstration with each other, it normally means we're practicing an advance move.

But this was different. Luke told everyone we were going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but drop his weapon. He must have picked it up while I was gone during the school year, because I never learned it myself.

First Luke demonstrated the move in slow motion. Sure enough, Riptide clattered out of my hand.

"Now in real time," he said, after I picked up my riptide. "We keep sparing until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?"

"Ready when you are, Luke," I responded.

Luke came after me as I kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of my sword.

The one thing I liked about sword practice is that it seems when my senses are the most open. I stepped forward and tried to thrust of my own. Luke deflected it easily. I used the opportunity to hit my blade at the base of Luke's and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward thrust.

Clang.

Luk's sword rattled against the stones. The tip of my blade was an inch from his undefended chest.

Everyone was surprise—including myself. Before, I would be lucky to get any blows on Luke, but this—this was the opposite. I actually disarmed Luke.

"Way to go, Percy," Luke responded, "Keep that up, and I might have to watch out for you."

I smiled and withdrew my sword and extended my hand. Luke took it and we shook.

…

Friday afternoon, I was sitting with Grover at the lake, resting from a round of rock climbing lesson on the climbing wall that pours lava, smash into each other, and causes avalanches.

We sat on the pier watching the naiads do underwater basket weaving, until I got the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr. D.

His face turned a sickly shade of yellow.

"Fine," he said. Just great."

"So your career's still on track?"

Grover looked down at the naiads. "Mr. D suspended judgment. He said I hadn't failed or succeeded with my quest with you, yet. So our fates were still tied together. If you got a quest and I went along to protect you, and we both came back alive, then maybe he'd consider the job complete."

I lowered my head. There hasn't been a quest assigned to _any_ demigod since Luke failed his quest. Not even the senior campers and counsellors were given a chance. Chiron said that Oracle foretold that another quest won't happened until something life changing happens, but some campers are starting to wonder otherwise.

"We'll think of something," I promised. "We can't give up yet. Nothing is certain until it happens right?"

"Right," Grover put up a fake smile.

…

That night after dinner, there was a lot more excitement than usual.

At last, it was time for capture the flag.

When the plates were cleared away, the conch horn sounded and we all stood at our tables.

Campers yelled and cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, glistening gray, with a painting of a barn owl above an olive tree. From the opposite side of the pavilion, Clarisse and her siblings ran in with another banner, of identical size, but gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and boar's head. Those banners were our flags, and when we grab our opponents flag and cross it toward our border it would magically change colors and symbols to whatever cabin carried it across.

Tonight, Athena teamed up with two of the biggest cabins—Apollo's and Hermes' cabins—and me from Poseidon Cabin. We made an agreement that if we win, we'll trade privileges—shower times, chore schedules, the best slots for activities—in order to win support.

Ares had allied themselves with everybody else: Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus. Dionysus' kids were actually good athletes, but there were only two of them. Demeter's kids had the edge with nature skills and outdoor stuff, but they weren't aggressive. Most of Aphrodite's sons and daughter sat out almost every activity unless The Hunters of Artemis comes to visit—then they suddenly have the will to participate. Hephaestus' kids were these four big and burly kids who has brains and muscle on their side from working in the forges. Only other cabin that can outwit them is Athena's kids. Then there were Ares' Cabin: a dozen of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids on Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet.

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble.

"Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, oxhide shields coated in metal. Me, I only need armor and shield and helmet since I had my riptide.

I strapped my armor over my body. My shield was standard size with a huge trident in the middle (each shield has a symbol of our patron-god/divine-parent). My helmet—like my allies—had a blue horsehair plume on top. Ares and their alies had red plumes.

Lucky for me I got my orders before coming to dinner. Sometimes I get to help with the attack force, sometimes I get to help with scouting. But when it comes to defenses, most of the time I'm put on border control next to the creek with the unclaimed, and tonight was one of those nights. The reason is since I'm strongest in water, it's only natural that I help defend near water.

Annabeth yelled, "Blue team, forward!"

We cheered and shook our swords and followed her down the path to the south woods. The red team—mostly Ares' kids—yelled and taunt at us as they headed off toward the north.

I wasn't worried. I been in this camp long enough too know the strengths and weaknesses of each Olympian kids as well as the magical items each cabin is known for.

It was warm, sticky night. The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view. I was stationed next to a little creak that gurgled over some rocks. It wasn't much of a water source, but I played enough capture the flag to know how to work with it.

Most of the unclaimed were positioned all over the boarder, which left me alone and I already had riptide out ready for anything.

The conch horn was blown and the game began immediately with fighting.

I decided to practice my sword while I'm waiting for possible attacks. However my practice was put on hault when I heard a sound that send a chill up my spine, a low canine growl. I recognize it immediately as a growl of a hellhound and it sounded close by.

Just then a hellhound the size of a rhino jumped out of the bushes at me.

I barely dodge it but the beast just turned back to me as soon as it landed on the ground.

Great, what I just need! A Hellhound attacking.

"Wave!" I yelled.

I created a huge wave from the creak at the beast. It was about to dodge when something struck it from behind and shock it with electricity and when the water hit it, it doubled the damage destroying the hellhound.

Behind it was Clarisse holding her spear that sparks electricity—which explains the hellhound getting shock.. Judging from her expression, she was ready to go head-to-head with me when she saw the monster.

"What the heck Prissy?" She yelled, "Where did that hellhound come from?"

"How am I supposed to know?" I responded, "We should report this to Chiron."

"That—or finish the game first," Clarisse said readying herself.

"Clarisse, this is no time to joke around!" Percy responded.

"Who said I'm joking," Clarisse charged at me with her spear.

I quickly dodge it and disarmed her of her spear and kicked it away.

"Would you listen?" I responded.

Before she could answer, we heard yelling, elated screams, and I saw Luke racing toward the boundary line with the red team's banner lifted high. She was flanked by his brother Travis and Connor Stoll—both having a mop of brown hair but still had the Hermes traits—along with Apollo's kids along with Annabeth and some of her siblings were following behind them, fighting off the Hephaestus' kids.

"No!" Clarisse responded.

Luke crossed the creek with the banner. The red banner shimmered and turned silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and stared carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn.

The game was over. We won. But that wasn't important right now.

I staggered toward Chiron. "Chiron! A hellhound appeared in camp!"

That seemed to stop the celebrations as everyone turned to me.

As if sensing that I was telling the truth, Chiron asked, "What happened?"


	9. I'm Offered A Quest

**I'm Offered A Quest**

I wish I can say that I gained new respect for help destroying a hellhound, but then I would be lying.

The next week was miserable. Only Luke Annabeth and Grover would talk to me. The rest of the camp were starting to think I had brought bad luck to the camp. Some rumors were going around that it started all because I refused to go to the winter solstice meeting.

I haven't felt this out of place since I first came to camp and it was confirmed that I was indeed the son of Poseidon.

But I didn't know how bad things were until one night I came into my cabin and found a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the _New York Daily News_ , opened to the Metro page. The article took me almost an hour to read, because of my dyslexia and anger.

 **BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT"  
** BY EILEEN SMYTHE

Sally Jackson and son Percy are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned 78' Camaro was discovered two weeks ago on north Long Island road with the axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.  
The son was wanted for questioning for believing to be involved with the crash of the replica at the Argo's Mast at the Metropolitan Museum. However, at the sight of the crash, there was no signs of the Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reporting seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.  
Mrs. Jackson's ex-husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his former stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who ran away from home at age seven when he was told to stay and wait to be picked up and was the reason for his and Mrs. Jackson's divorce.  
Police would not say whether the son Percy is a suspect in his mother's disappearance and the destruction of museum property, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson and Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free crime stoppers hotline.

The phone number was circled in black marker.

I wadded up the paper and threw it away, then flopped down in my bunk bed. Leave it to Gabe to keep ruining my life even after the divorce.

"Lights out," I told myself miserably.

…

That night, I had my worst dream yet. I was running along the beach in a storm with a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They were both muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. I recognize them immediately. The man in the blue tunic was Zeus—Thalia's father—and the one in the green tunic was my dad, Poseidon. And they were arguing, not fighting—not yet atleast—but I could tell from the storm they were near a breaking point.

 _If you don't have it, where is it?_ Zeus yelled like a frustrated little kid.

 _I don't know, but my son is innocent and so am I!_ Poseidon responded back.

I tried to reach them but the ground shook, throwing me back. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil turned my blood to ice.

 _Come down, little hero_ , the voice crooned. _Come down!_

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I woke up, sure I was falling.

I was still in bed in cabin three. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn't dreamed that.

I heard clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?"

Grover trotted inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see you."

"Why?"

"Olympus has issued an order for a quest," Grover said.

My eyes widened. If that was true, and Grover came here to tell me, that means only one thing, the quest is for me.

I got dressed and followed Grover to the Big House—looking away from Cabin Eight—Artemis' Cabin. See, Artemis' cabin was made out of silver, so that at night it glows in the moonlight just as Apollo's Cabin glows in the sunlight.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. In the five years I been here, I know normally bad weather would pass, but even I can tell a hazy curtain of rain was coming our direction.

I wasn't the only one who noticed. At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin was playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus' twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making sure the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm.

Grover and I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as always. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents—two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity. Don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because you manage to survive three monster attacks in a week."

I wanted to say, _I would be surprise if you did._ But I decided to just stay quiet. Besides, I didn't fight all those monsters on my own.

Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"Well, I better go," Dionysus said. "An emergency Olympus meeting. If the boy is still here we will strike."

Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A security pass.

He snapped his fingers.

The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, then he was gone, leaving only a smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiled at me, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. And Grover."

We did.

Chiron laid his cards down on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

"Tell me, Percy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound you and Clarisse destroyed?"

Just hearing the name made me shuddered and brought back bad memories.

"It surprised me, and too be honest I was scared at first," I responded, "I mean, it wasn't as big as the one that pounced on me five years ago, but I still didn't expected to fight one in camp."

Chiron nodded as it was understandable. "Most with bad experience with a certain monster would feel that way. However, you'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before your done."

"You're talking about the quest aren't you?" I asked, "I thought you said no more quest will be issued until something big was going to happen."

"Yes, I did, and I'm afraid to say that is what just happened," Chiron said.

Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and sea looked as if they were about to wage war with each other.

"Dad and Zeus," I said, "They're fighting over something valuable… something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron looked at Grover who was as lost as him.

Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

I swallowed. "The weather since the winter solstice meeting has been weird as if Zeus been in a fit. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she overheard something about a theft. And… I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover said.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroke his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are at the breaking point of their worse quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: Zeus' Master Bolt."

My eyes widened. The Master Bolt was the symbol of Zeus' power with explosive energy that made the hydrogen bomb look like firecrackers. The first weapon made by the eldest cyclopes for the war against the Titans. I only seen it during the winter solstice meeting but even I know not to toy with it.

"Who stole it?" I asked

"Well, at first, it was presumed to be you... since it was thought you _ditch_ the winter solstice meeting."

"I was staying with my mom spending my first family holiday with her in five years!" I responded, "Grover was with me!"

"We know that. In fact, Dionysus contacted Grover the moment Zeus found the bolt missing and confirmed it. However, that only dropped you from being the first possible culprit," Chiron said. "Zeus is still suspicious of you and your father. Especially since your father had history of trying to over throw Zeus."

"So now he wants me to search for his bolt to prove my dad's and my innocent," I responded.

"Yes," Chiron responded, "They're giving you to the Summer Solstice to return the Master Bolt, that's June twenty-first, currently ten days from now."

 _That's right, I came here around the end of May early June,_ I thought.

"And if I don't find it?" I asked.

"Well, worse case scenario, war will break out on Olympus," Chiron said. "Without a thief found, the gods will start pointing fingers and blaming one another."

"Great," I responded.

It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky.

"Okay. I'll take on the quest," I responded.

"Very well," Chiron said, "It's time for you to seek counsel of the oracle. Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

…

If it wasn't for the chance of my family killing each other for a bolt, I wouldn't even have come up to the attic.

Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trapdoor.

I pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place.

The warm air from above smelled like mildew and rotten wood and something else… reptiles. The smell of snakes.

I held my breath and climbed.

The attic was filled with unwanted trophies of wars over the centuries. The latest one was a large fish tank filled with some kind of liquid and in it was the Minotaur's arm. I didn't need to look at the date to know it was the one I cut off. I'm glad Grover didn't make me keep the arm. I rather have it's horn than it's arm.

Further in the far back by the window, sitting on a wooden tripod stool, was the most gruesome momento of all: the mummified remains of the Oracle. Annabeth and Luke had told me what it looked like, but seeing it is worse than hearing about it. Her female body was shriveled to a husk. She wore a tie-dye sundress, a lot of beaded necklaces, and a headband over her skull, and her eyes were glassy white slits, as if the real eyes had been replaced by marbles; she'd been dead a long, long time. Long before the incident with Luke's mother.

Looking at her send the memory of that dream vision of Luke's mom. I wanted to leave before I ended up like Mrs. Castellan, but before I could move, the mummy sat up on her stool and opened her mouth. A green mist poured from the mummy's mouth, coiling over the floor in thick tendrils, hissing like twenty snakes. I stumbled over myself to the trapdoor, but it slammed shut. Inside my head, I heard a voice, slithering in one ear and coiling around my brain: _I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask._

I remembered Hal's warning about knowing too much about the future. I wanted to deny, but I ended up forcing myself to speak. "What is my destiny?"

The mist swirled more thickly, collecting right in front of me and around the table with the pickled monster-part jars. Suddenly there was an image of Hal's apartment before the fire. Hal was there, looking the same he did before he died.

He opened his mouth, and I thought a leucrotae would show up and speak to him, but instead Hal spoke in the rasping voice of the Oracle:

 _You shall go west, and face the god who has turned  
You shall find what was stolen, and see it returned.  
Your loyalty will be tested repeatedly by the hidden voice  
A sacrifice will be made by your choice  
Your past decision weigh on your shoulder,  
As another friend's fate will come to order._

The figure dissolved. At first I was too stunned to say anything, but as the mist retreated, coiling into a huge green serpent and slithering back into the mouth of the mummy, I cried, "Wait! What do you mean?"

But the tail of the mist snake disappeared in the mummy's mouth. She reclined back against the wall. Her mouth closed tight, as if it hadn't been open in a hundred years. The attic was silent again, abandoned, nothing but a room full of unwanted mementos.

I got the feeling that I could stand here until I had cobwebs, too, and I wouldn't' learn anything else.

My audience with the Oracle was over, but I know one thing. Now I understand why Thalia and Luke were shaken up and angered when Hal gave them their prediction.

…

"Well?" Chiron asked me.

I slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen."

Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!"

"What did the Oracle said _exactly_?" Chiron pressed. "This is important."

My ears were still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She… she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover said.

Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else."

I nodded. "Your loyalty will be tested repeatedly by the hidden voice. A sacrifice will be made by your choice. Your past decision weigh on your shoulder, As another friend's fate will come to order."

There was a brief silence as I lowered my head to my hands. If it was to anyone else, I wouldn't have repeated those last few lines, but Chiron been like a father-figure to me and I felt it was my duty to tell him.

"Very well, Percy. But know this: the oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until until events come to pass."

I nodded. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in war, who stands to gain? Who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children that they have broken."

I thought of my dreams, the hidden voice in the ground. "Hades."

Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility. He must have waited until Percy had went home to act."

A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded him. "The Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but—but Hades hates _all_ heroes," Grover said.

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect that Percy would try and clear his father's name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest."

"Great," I muttered.

"But a quest to…" Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. He hid it in the Underworld, hoping that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

I don't know if what Chiron said was true, but a strange thought came to my mind. Hades might know something about what happened to my mother. Sure I'm still a kid, and Hades is a god. Sure that line about a sacrifice still on my mind. But if I can find out what really happened that night I fought the Minotaur, then maybe I can at least put my mind to ease.

Grover was trembling. He started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

The poor guy needed to complete a quest with me so he could get his searcher's license, but how could I ask him to do this quest. This wasn't a matter of keeping me safe while I go home for the school year. This was about going to a place that all nature spirits fear.

"So let me get this straight," I said. "I'm supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron said.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days.

"That's about right."

I looked at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts.

"Did I mention that Maine is very nice this year?" he asked weakly."

"You don't have to go," I told him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh…" he shifted his hooves. "No… it's just that satyrs and underground places… well…"

He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his T-shirt. "You save my life, Percy. If… if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down."

I felt relieved hearing it. "All the way, G-Man," I turned to Chiron, "So, since oracle said I need to go west, I would have to use the main entrance to the Underworld, right?"

"That's right?" Chiron responded, "At Los Angeles."

"Okay, then we just get on some Pegasus and fly there," I responded.

"Normally I would agree with you riding on Pegasus, Percy. But considering that your father and Zeus is at a breaking point of war, I suggest you wait until you retrieve the master bolt before riding one in the sky," Chiron said, "If anything happens where war breaks out before then, Zeus might not hesitate to blast you off a Pegasus."

Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed.

"Okay," I said, determined not to look at the storm. "So, I'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron said. "It's tradition that two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help."

I smirked. There's only one person I know who would go on and take a quest before getting the details.

"I guess that's you, Annabeth?" I asked.

The air shimmered behind Chiron.

Annabeth became visible, with a New York Yankees cap in her hand—a gift from her mother that turns her invisible when she wears it.

"You bet, Seaweed brain," she said, using the childhood nickname she gave me. "If you're going on a quest, I'm coming with you. I'm not going to sit by while another friend of mine goes on a quest. Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't mess this up."

"Suit yourself," I responded.

"Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing."


	10. We Battle Furies On The Bus

**A/N:** I decided to repost this chapter with a few more editions.

* * *

 **Battling Furies On The Bus**

It didn't take long to pack since most of my stuff that I was _supposed_ to bring with me to camp was caught in the car explosion. Thank gods I decided to leave Hal's book here before heading home. I only had one extra change of clothes, and a toothbrush to stuff in a spare backpack Grover found for me. I only kept my sword and a copy of a photo of when Thalia Luke Annabeth and I were at my apartment five years ago.

The camp store loaned me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. These coins were the size of Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. It was made out of gold since that's what the Olympians gave me. I also packed the sand dollars my dad been giving me every birthday and Christmas since I came to camp that I kept in Cabin Three. They're worthless to mortals and most gods, but I quickly learned that water spirits will do just about _anything_ for even one sand dollar. It's not the most awesome gift an Olympian can give to their demigod child, but it's the most reliable.

Chiron also gave Annabeth and me each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used in emergencies.

Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and the long bronze knife Luke gave her hidden in her shirt sleeve.

I wish I brought Hal's book, but I didn't want to risk it being destroyed.

Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs that can be turned into nature magic: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.

We waved good-bye to the other campers took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to Thalia's tree.

Chiron was waiting for us next to Argus dressed in a chauffer's uniform.

"Argus will be taking you guys to the bus terminal and, er, well, keep an eye on things," Chiron said.

I heard footsteps behind us.

Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. I recognize them immediately as the winged shoes his father—Hermes—gave him.

"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."

I noticed that Annabeth was trying to hide a blush. It been evident for some time that she had some kind of crush on Luke.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told me.

"Thanks, sorry about not being to ask you to join us," I apologized.

"That's okay. Traditions are traditions," Luke said, "Besides I been on a quest without you guys, so now we're even. Which reminds me… I thought that if Zeus thought to be—um—generous, you could use these."

He handed me the winged sneakers, which right now look like regular basketball shoes.

"The trigger words are _Maia_ ," Luke said which caused the wings to sprout at the heels. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them these days… but…"

I didn't want to break the news to Luke that I can't use these so instead, "Hey, man. Thanks."

"Listen, Percy…" Luke looked uncomfortable. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just… kill some monsters for me, okay?"

We shook hands. Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave Annabeth a good-bye hug.

After Luke left, and Annabeth was cooling off, I turned to Grover.

"Here, Grover," I said. "You want these?"

His eyes lit up. "Me?"

Pretty soon we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet and the world's first flying goat-boy was ready for launch.

 _"Maia!"_ he shouted.

He got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice.

"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower heading to the camp van.

Annabeth went after him to see if she could help him out.

I turned to Thalia's tree. The last line of the Oracle's prophecy played in my head. I started to wonder if it had something to do with our encounter with Hal.

 _"Well, Thalia, we're off on our first quest, wish us luck,"_ I thought.

"Oh, Percy! I got something your father wanted me to give you when you start your first quest," Chiron said.

Chiron took out what looked like a normal thermos made out of celestial bronze.

"Um-Thanks," I responded.

"Open it!" Chiron said.

I did and looked inside to see that the inside wasn't made out of celestial bronze but rather fossilize seashells.

"This will help you if you ever find yourself in a situation when you're not in water," Chiron said, "Just focus your power into it, and it will fire a jet of it!"

I tried that but facing the thermos in the air-getting that tugging feeling in my guy-and a strong jet of water shot out of the thermos almost blowing me back until I called it off.

"It got some power," I responded.

"Yes, which is why I recommend you don't use it unless you have to," Chiron said.

I nodded and capped the thermos and placed it in my bag.

"Be careful, Percy," Chiron said.

"I will," I responded

When I got to the bottom of the hill, I looked back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia. Chiron was nos standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur.

…

Argus drove us on the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Grover sitting next to me as if we were normal carpoolers. I still remember the first time I left Camp Half-Blood with my mom. The world seemed so much a fantasy that I kept staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of his parent's car, every billboard and shopping mall.

Things were good so far, but I didn't dare bring it up. It was bad luck for demigods.

Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By time we got into Manhattan it was sunset and starting to rain again.

Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from Gabe's apartment. Taped to a mailbox was a soggy flyer with my picture on it: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY?

I ripped it before Annabeth and Grover could notice.

Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eyes on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.

…

The rain kept coming down.

We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. I wasn't too bad myself.

The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all.

Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but Annabeth and I were too busy cracking up.

Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started loking around, sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite food—enchiladas.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing."

But I could tell it wasn't nothing. I started looking over my shoulder, too.

I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We stowed our backpacks. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously on her thigh.

As the last passengers got on, Annabeth clamped her hand on my knee. "Percy."

An old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumbled velvet dress, lace gloves, and shapeless orange-knit hat that shadowed her face, and she carried a big paisley purse. When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered, and I knew who she was—one of the furies.

Behind her two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Make that all three Furies.

They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves.

The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," I said, trying to keep my voice from quivering.

"All three of them," Grover whimpered. _"Di immortals!"_

"It's okay," Annabeth said, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moaned.

"A back exit?" she suggested.

There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"I doubt the Mist would do much help at this point except make it look like three old ladies attacking us," I responded.

"Hard to say," Annabeth admitted, "But we can't count on mortal help even if we did. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof…?"

That's when I got a better idea.

"Annabeth, I need to borrow your hat," I said.

"What?" Annabeth responded.

"I got an idea, but I need your hat and for you and Grover to keep those three busy," I responded.

Annabeth looked at me skeptical. Not that I blame her. Normally when I planned something, something gets destroyed that I get blamed for or it backfires.

However, Annabeth didn't get the chance to argue as we hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was earily quiet without the sound of the rain.

One of the furies got up. In a flat voice, as if she rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the rest-room."

"So do I," said the second Furies.

"So do I," said the third Furies.

They all started coming down the aisle.

"Fine!" Annabeth said as she handed me her hat. "Be careful."

I grabbed my backpack and strapped it to my back before I put on Annabeth's hat turning invisible.

I started creeping up the aisle. I managed to get up ten rows, then duck into an empty seat just as the Furies walked past.

One of them stopped, sniffing, and looked straight at me. The cap must work on monsters because she and her sisters kept moving.

I quickly manipulated the Mist over mortals to make the _old ladies_ they see look suspicious. Then I made my way to the front of the bus. We were almost through the Lincoln Tunnel now.

Just as I was about to go through with my crazy plan, when I heard hideous wailing from the back row.

The Furies had transformed into their true forms with fiery whips and were lashing them at Annabeth and Grover, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The people on the bus started screaming and yelling about crazy old ladies.

 _At least that worked._ I thought.

"He's not here!" Annabeth yelled. "he's gone!"

The Furies raised their whips.

Annabeth drew her knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his nap sack.

I decided now or never was the best time to use my plan.

While the bus driver was distracted, trying to see what was going on in his rearview mirror, I grabbed the wheel from him and jerked it to the left. Everybody howled as they were thrown to the right, and I heard what I hoped was the sound of three Furies smashing against the windows.

"Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!"

We wrestled for the wheel. The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us.

We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters were tossed around the bus, cars plowed aside like bowling pins.

Somehow the driver found the exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river but before he did, I hit the emergency brake.

The bus wailed and spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. There was going to be some dryads that are going to be _really_ angry at me, but that was the least of our problem. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. I quickly manipulated the mist over the mortals as they rushed out.

The Furies regained their balance. They lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans.

I took off the invisible cap. "Hey!"

The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at me, and either stalked up the aisle or through the seats. She flicked her whip, sending red flames along the barbed leather.

"Perseus Jackson," said the Furies, "You have offended the gods. You shall die."

Annabeth and Grover moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening.

I took out my thermos and uncapped it.

"Submit now," one hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."

"Nice try," I told her as I focus my power into my Thermos. A jet of water fired out of it hit the Furies and send them flying backwards. Once I was done, I capped my thermos, put it in my backpack. Then I took out Riptide and uncapped it just as the Fury on the left started getting up.

I moved in and sliced the Fury. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. Annabeth got the last one in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands.

"Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! How! Hot!"

The Fury I'd hilt slammed came at me again, talons ready, but I swung Riptide and she broke like a piñata.

The last Fury was trying to get Annabeth off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed a bit, but Annabeth held on while Grover got her legs tied up in her own whip.

"Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!"

"Maybe, maybe not, too bad you won't be here long to find out," I said before I sliced the Fury deep enough that she exploded in a dust without harming Annabeth.

We took a breather before I could hear sirens outside. One of the passengers must have called the authorities.

"We got to get out of here," I said.

Annabeth and Grover nodded and grabbed their backpacks in the far back before we headed out.

* * *

 **A/N:** Don't worry, I have a plan for how Percy will end up with the Bolt, but I won't reveal it for now.

I hope you like the idea of the Thermos.


	11. Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium

**Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium**

I hope the Mist Manipulation I did before taking the bus joy riding worked, otherwise we would have monsters and mortals after our tails.

So there we were, Annabeth and Grover and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses.

Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."

"Come on! The farther away we get, the better," Annabeth said.

We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry.

After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to me. "I take it throwing the Furies around was all part of that idea of yours?"

"Yeah, I'm glad I got to use my thermos," I responded.

"I take it that was a gift from your father?" Annabeth asked.

"Yeah. Dad had Chiron kept it until I went on my first quest," I responded taking out the Thermos to show it to her.

Annabeth examine it before opening it to see the fossilize sea shells inside.

"I take it the fossilize sea shells inside lets me summon and even fire jets of water from inside it," Annabeth guessed.

"Yeah," I responded, "Making it the perfect magical item for me."

"That's for sure," Annabeth responded handing it back to me.

I put the Thermos back in my backpack.

The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. I couldn't see anything of Annabeth except the glint from her blonde hair.

Just then there was a shrill _toot-toot-toot_ , like the sound of an owl being tortured.

"Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!"

He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff.

Instead of finding a path, I immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on my head.

"Grover—maybe you should try to figure the song out when we're _not_ walking in the dark," I suggested as I rubbed my head.

Grover nodded as he quickly put away his reed pipes.

So instead we walked through the darkness—still dripping over things but at least not hitting our heads on a tree—for another mile or so, I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food that I haven't had since I came back in Camp Half-Blood.

See at camp, we live on healthy food, which is a good diet for a demigod trying to train to fight monsters and survive the real world. But a demigod can only take so much healthy food without asking Hermes Cabin to smuggle in something unhealthy from town.

We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a close-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the Neon light and the good smell.

It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like I'd hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indian and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for Annabeth and me to read, because if there's anything worse for demigods with dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English.

To me, it looked like: _ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM_.

"What the heck does it say?" I asked Groer.

Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."

Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken.

I crossed the street, following the smell of hamburgers.

"Hey…" Grover warned.

"The lights are on inside," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's open."

"Snack bar," I said wistfully.

"Snack bar," she agreed.

"Are you two crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird.

We ignored him.

The front was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps.

 _"Bla-ha-ha!"_ he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!"

We stopped at the warehouse door.

"Don't knock ," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters."

"Your nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burger. Aren't you hungry?"

"Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian."

"They probably have French Fries—that's not meat," I stated.

"Let's just leave," Grover responded, "These statues are… looking at me."

Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman—at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well-manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady.

Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out alone. Where are your parents?"

"They're… um…" Annabeth started to say.

"We're orphans," I said.

"Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!"

"We got separated from our caravan," I said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?"

Okay, I'll admit, that was the worse lie I ever made up but it seem to have worked.

"Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area."

We thanked her and went inside.

Annabeth muttered to me, "Circus Caravan?"

"It's the best I could think of at short notice," I responded.

The warehouse was filled with more statues—people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. Normally I would find this suspicious since all these statues were life size and like they were once alive, but right now I was thinking about food.

Go ahead, call me an idiot for walking into a strange lady's shop like that just because I was hungry, but I wasn't the only one not paying attention to stuff like this at first. Apparently Annabeth was under the same trance as me and only Grover was cautious, especially when Aunty Em locked the door behind us.

Sure enough, there was a dining area in the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front.

"Please, sit down," Aunty Em said.

"Awesome," I said.

"Um," Grover said reluctantly, "We don't mean to intrude."

"Oh no, you children aren't intruding anything. And don't worry about paying, this is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans."

"Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth said.

Aunty Em, stiffened, as if Annabeth had done something wrong, but then the old woman relaxed just as quickly.

"Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful gray eyes, child."

I frowned I didn't remember us telling Aunty Em our names. The last time someone called be my name without me telling him I found out later was my dad. But there was no way this lady should have known Annabeth.

Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking.

"We need to get out of here," I said.

"Finally!" Grover said.

"What?" Annabeth responded still in a daze, "Why?"

"She knew your name without us telling her," I responded, "Plus this place—"

Before I could finish, Aunty Em returned with plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French Fries.

We silently decided to stay and eat until we have the opening to get out of here, maybe find out what Aunty Em is.

"What's that hissing noise?" Grover asked.

I listen and didn't hear anything. I guess I shouldn't be surprise though.

"Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover."

I take vitamins. For my ears."

"That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax."

Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a little unsettling, but I was more focus on why this place looked so familiar. Something about my name-sake—the first Perseus.

I decided to question her casually. "So, you sell gnomes."

"Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know."

"A lot of business on this road?"

"Not so much, no. Since the highway was built… most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get."

My neck tingled, as if somebody else was looking at me. I turned, but it was just a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The details were almost like everything else, only this one's face was terrified.

"Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the faces. At one time I had two sisters to help me in business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company." The sadness in her voice sounded so deep I almost felt sorry for her.

Luckily Annabeth stopped eating and sat forward to say, "Two sisters?" which snapped me out of it.

"It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me long ago, when I was young. I had a… a boyfriend, you know"—she looked at me as if I reminded her of him which send a shiver down my back—"and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survive, but at a price. Such a price."

"Maybe we should start leaving," I said, "The ringmaster is probably worried about us."

"Please stay, Percy. You look so much like my previous boyfriend, I wouldn't mind keeping you here," Aunty Em said.

"I agree with Percy," Annabeth said, "We should go.

"Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!"

"Please, dears," Aunty Em pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?"

"A pose?" Annabeth asked warily.

"A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children."

Annabeth shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"There's no harm in a photo, is there?" Aunty Em said.

We didn't like it but we didn't have much of a choice but to have her led us back out the front door, into the garden of statues.

Aunty Em directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr. "Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The young girl in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side."

I felt almost like I did five years ago when Annabeth Thalia Luke and I did a group photo for my mom, but I had a feeling this wasn't for a photo.

"Not much light for a photo," I remarked.

"Oh, enough," Aunty Em said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?"

"Where's your camera?" Grover asked.

Aunty Em stepped back, as if to admire the shot. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?"

Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand."

"Grover," Aunty Em chastised, "look this way, dear."

She still had no camera in her hands. "I will just be a moment," Aunty Em said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this curse veil…"

I had shiver down my bakc I remembered when I saw the door knob to Hal's mansion. How it was shaped like—

 _Medusa!_ I thought.

"Look away from her!" Annabeth shouted. She whipped her Yankees cap onto her head and vanish.

I whipped out my thermos, quickly uncapped it and summoned a blast of water that hit Aunty Em—a.k.a. Medusa—which gave Grover and I time to separate and hide.

Then I heard a strange rasping sound above me. My eyes rose to Aunty Em's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for finger nails. I didn't dare look higher than that, knowing what will happen if I did.

"Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, _"Maia!"_ to kick start his flying sneakers.

I duck and roll farther away from Medusa but that didn't stop her from trying to drag me closer to her.

"Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look at me in the face, and I promise, I won't destroy your handsome face."

I ignored her and looked for something that has a reflection. If I remember correctly, you won't turn into stone if you look at her face through a mirror or something with a reflection.

I found an orange glass that had a reflection and was showing Medusa's pale face and serpents for hair.

"The Gray-Eyed One did this to me, Percy," Medusa said, still triyng to draw me in.

"Yeah, I know the story, and too be honest, I can see why Athena was mad," I responded, "But I decided long ago that I won't let the rivalry between my dad and Annabeth's mom effect my decisions."

"Do you really want to help the god, Percy?" Medusa asked.

"If it means helping my dad keep peace on Olympus, yes," I responded.

"Don't you see you're being used, my dear? Don't you see what's awaiting for you in the underworld?"

Honestly, I rather not think about it until I get there, but I wasn't about to let a gorgon know that.

"Duck!" Grover yelled from above me.

I ducked as Grover came flying with his winged shoes while holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone.

Judging from what I heard, Grover _THWACK_ Medusa in the head with the tree branch causing her to roar with rage.

"You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!"

"That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back.

I took cover in a stationary as Grover swoop in for another attack.

Right next to me, Annabeth's voice said, "Percy!"

I jumped so high my feet nearly cleared a garden gnome. "Jeez, Annabeth! Don't do that!"

Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and became visible. "You have to cut her head off."

"You think I don't know that," I responded. I took out riptide and uncapped it, causing it to expand in it's sword form. Despite how much I try to clean this sword, the celestial bronze on it isn't made to reflect images.

Annabeth seem to be thinking what I was thinking as she grabbed a green gazing ball form a nearby pedestral. "Here! It may not be a polish shield, but it would do."

"Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!"

 _"Roooaaarrr!"_

"Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch.

"Hurry," Annabeth told me. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash.

I nodded and headed off.

I followed the hissing and spitting sounds of Medusa's hair.

I kept my eyes locked on the gazing ball so I would only glimpse Medusa's reflection, not the real thing. Then, in the green tinted glass, I saw her.

Grover was coming in for another turn at bat, but this time he flew a little too low. Medusa grabbed the stick and pulled him off course. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful "Ummphh!"

Medusa was about to lunge at him when I yelled, "Hey!"

I advance on her, holding a sword and a glass ball. We went through training exercises like this in Monster Fighting class in camp.

She let me approach—twenty feet, ten feet.

I could see the reflection of her face now and gods she was ugly.

"You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy," she crooned. "I know you wouldn't."

I fake a hesitation, making look as real as I could.

Medusa cackled, "I got you."

She lunged at me with her talons.

I slashed up with my sword, heard a sickening _shlock!_ , then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintergrating.

Something fell to the ground next to my foot. I figured it was the head of medusa—another trophy of war and one I don't attend to keep or leave in the cabin.

Annabeth came up with her eyes fixed in the sky as she wrapped Medusa's head carefully with it's veil.

"You okay?" Annabeth asked.

"Yeah, I didn't think she would fall for a fake hesitation though," I responded.

"She must had high hopes to preserve you, Percy," Annabeth said.

Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flyin aimlessly around his head.

"The Red Baron," I said. "Good job, man."

He managed a bashful grin. "That really was _not_ fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? _Not_ fun."

He snatched his shoes out of the air. I recapped my sword. Together, the three of us stumbled back to the warehouse with Medusa's head.

"Does anyone argue with me burning Medusa's head?" I asked.

Annabeth and Grover didn't argue, in fact, they helped me. We all silently agreed that keeping this head might be more dangerous than the quest itself. We stuff Medusa's head in a box and surround it in receipt paper. After we manage to find matches we took it outside and burned it.

Once the head was burned and we raid the place of all the money, drachmas, food, and camping gear we could carry, we left.

Another thing we silently agree was to never bring up why we came here. As far as both Annabeth and I were concern, we both were attracted to the place.


	12. We Get Advice from a Pink Poodle

**We Get Advice from a Pink Poodle**

We were pretty miserable that night.

We camped out in the woods, a hundred yards from the main road in a marshy clearing that local kids had obviously been using for parties. The ground was littered from flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers.

We didn't dare light a fire to dry our damp clothes. The Furies and Medusa had provided enough excitement for one day. We didn't want to attract anything else.

We decided to sleep in shifts. I volunteered to take first watch.

Annabeth curled up on the blankets and was snoring as soon as her head hit the ground. Grover fluttered with his flying shoes to the lowest bough of a tree, put his back to the trunk, and stared at the night sky.

"Go ahead and sleep," I told him. "I'll wake you if there's trouble."

He nodded, but still didn't close his eyes. "It makes me sad, Percy."

I could tell he was referring to how polluted this place is.

"I'm sorry about your uncle, Grover," I responded.

"It's okay. He died following his dream," Grover said.

"Finding Pan?" I asked.

Grover didn't answer, which I took as a yes. I didn't know much about the satyr's quest, but I do know that most satyrs that left on it never returned, including Grover's father and uncle.

"You'll find him, Grover," I responded. "And you'll make your uncle and father proud."

"Thanks," Grover responded.

There was a brief silence.

"Percy, what did the oracle meant by past decisions?" Grover asked.

"I have an idea, but I pray to Olympus that I'm wrong," I responded.

"Hey Percy, did it seem that the Kindly Ones were holding back on the bus?" Grover asked.

I thought about it, and I saw his point. "Yeah, you're right. And now that I think about it, they seemed to be asking about an object."

"Yeah, I noticed it too," Grover said, "How about _I_ take first watch, huh? You get some sleep."

I wanted to protest, but he started to play Mozart, soft and sweet, and I turned away, my eyes stinging. After a few bars of Piano Concerto no. 12, I was asleep.

…

In my dreams, I stood in a dark cavern before a gaping pit. Gray mist creatures churned all around me, whispering rags of smoke that I somehow knew were the spirits of the dead.

They tugged at my clothes, trying to pull me back, but I felt compelled to walk forward to the very edge of the chasm.

Looking down made me dizzy.

The pit yawned so wide and was so completely black, I knew it must be bottomless. Yet I had a feeling that something was trying to rise from the abyss, something huge and evil.

 _The little hero,_ an amused voice echoed far down in the darkness. _Too young but perhaps you will do._

The voice felt ancient—cold and heavy. It wrapped around me like sheets of lead.

 _They have misled you, boy,_ it said. _Barter with me. I can give you back your mother._

A shimmering image hovered over the void: my mother, frozen at the moment she dissolved in a shower of gold.

Her face was distorted with pain, as if the Minotaur were still squeezing her neck.

I wanted to save her, but I knew this was only a dream.

Cold laughter echoed from the chasm.

An invisible force pulled me forward. It would have drag me into the pit unless I stood firm.

 _Help me rise, boy_. The voice began hungrier. _Bring me the bolt. Strike a blow against the treacherous gods!_

The spirits of the dead whispered around me, _No! Wake!_

The image of my mother began to fade. The thing in the pit tightened its unseen grip around me.

I realized it wasn't interested in pulling me in. It was using me to pull itself _out_. I started to struggle to break free from its grip.

 _No! I won't betray my dad!_ I thought.

 _Wake!_ the dead whispered. _Wake!_

…

Someone was shaking me.

My eyes opened, and it was daylight.

"Well," Annabeth joked, "the zombie lives."

I was trembling from the dream. I could still feel the grip of the chasm monster on my chest. "How long was I asleep?"

"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." Annabeth tossed me a bag of nacho-flavored corn chips from Aunty Em's snack bar. "And Grover went exploring. Look, he found a friend."

I looked at Grover, who was sitting cross-legged on a blanket with something fuzzy in his lap, a dirty, unnatural pink poodle.

The poodle yapped at me suspiciously. Grover said, "No, he's not."

I've grown use to hearing Grover talk to animals so I didn't find it strange that he was talking to it. What surprised me was that Grover had the poodle.

"Percy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy."

"Um, hello," I said, "Grover, why is Gladiola with you?"

Grover explained that he'd come across Gladiola in the woods and they'd struck up a conversation. The poodle had run away from a rich local family, who'd posted a $200 reward for his return.

"Um, Grover, I don't mind earning extra money for the quest, but are you sure Gladiola will let us _return_ him?" I asked.

"Gladiola isn't happy about it, but he's willing to help me," Grover said.

"So we turn in Gladiola," Annabeth explained in her best strategy voice, "we get money, and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."

I thought about my dream—the whispering voices of the dead, the thing in the chasm. _It_ might be waiting for me in the west. I wanted to save my mother, but I didn't want to risk losing my dad in the process.

"Not another bus, I hope," I said.

"No," Annabeth agreed.

She pointed downhill, toward train tracks I hadn't been able to see last night in the dark. "There's an Amtrack station half a mile that way. According to Gladiola, the westbound train leaves at noon."


	13. I Plunge Into the Mississippi

**I Plunge To the Mississippi**

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.

We weren't attacked once, but I didn't relax. After my conversation with Grover and that dream, I've started getting the feeling that we were being watched, and not just by the Olympians.

I tried to keep a low profile. Because I'm still wanted for questioning by east coast authorities. My Mist manipulation trick was successful in making Annabeth and Grover look like they were being attacked, but because I wasn't able to clear my name with the _Argo_ Mast incident not to mention my mother's disappearance, there are questions about why I was on the bus leaving the city as well. It didn't help that the newspaper made it clear that Gabe was still using this to his advantage being the only known person to _know_ me outside school.

The rest of the day I spent alternately pacing the length of the train (because I had a really hard time sitting still) or looking out the windows.

Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. Luckily the adult riders weren't paying attention.

Another time I saw a lion the size of a hummer. It fur glinted gold in the evening light. My guess it was Nemeon Lion—that or a zoo was missing a lion. Whatever it was leaped through the trees and was gone.

…

We decided only to spend the reward money on the tickets and save whatever we have left to get us through the rest. Sadly the reward money only take us as far as Denver. We decided to get regular cars and sleep in our seats to save money.

Annabeth and I were awake one time while Grover snored and bleated. He even shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth and I had to sick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," Annabeth asked me, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants your help?"

I wanted to curse under my breath. I've forgotten that I talk and drool in my sleep and that since Annabeth woke me up, she must have heard me. I told her about my second dream in the pit.

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."

"He also asked for the lightning bolt," I said, "If Hades had the lightning bolt, why would he want me to bring it?"

"I don't know," Annabeth responded, "But we can't barter with Hades."

"Believe me, I don't want to if I don't have to," I responded, "But Hades knows something about my mom—or someone in the underworld does. That much I know for sure."

"Percy you're not considering—" Annabeth said.

"I'm not planning to barter for my mom," I responded. "But—that line the oracle said—about a sacrifice made by choice—I can't help but get this idea that whatever choice I made there will be sacrifice."

We decided to speak no more about it as we pass Ohio.

…

Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis.

Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch. I know why. Annabeth's dream was to build something monumental to the gods. She even dreamed to see the Parthenon in Greece one day.

We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told we'd have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver.

Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, "Food."

"Come on, goat boy," Annabeth said. "Sightseeing."

"Sightseeing?"

"The Gateway Arch," she said. "This maybe my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?"

Grover and I exchange looks. We couldn't leave Annabeth to go up there on her own.

Grover shrugged. "As long as there's a snack bar without monsters."

…

The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. It wasn't all that thrilling to Grover and me, but Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built, and Grover kept passing me jelly beans, so I was okay.

I kept looking around though, at the other people in line. I was tempted to ask Grover if he could smell any _you-know-what_ but I knew it was pointless. Underground places are surrounded by the scent of monsters—at least to a satyr.

Then there was the fact that Hades possess his own symbol of power: The Helm of Darkness, which is several times more powerful than Annabeth's hat of invisibility. It lets him become darkness, melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. If he was here, we wouldn't know it.

We had to take a tiny elevator car to the top, which I really hate. Confined places makes me nuts.

We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it.

We started going up inside the Arch. I'd been on an elevator before, especially to Olympus, but I never been on one that went in a curve so that was experience.

"No parents" the fat lady asked us.

She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she looked like a blue-jean blimp.

"They're below," Annabeth told her. "Scared heights."

"Oh, the poor darlings."

Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave." The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious. I was relieved when we reached to the top.

At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other side. The view was okay, but if there's anything I like less than a confined space, it's a confined space six hundred feet in the air and I wanted to leave but I tried to stay calm for Annabeth.

Annabeth kept talking about structural support, and how she would've made the windows bigger, and design a see-through floor. She probably could've stayed up there for hours, but luckily for me the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.

I steered Grover and Annabeth toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and I was about to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for me.

The park ranger said, "Next car, sir."

"We'll get out," Annabeth said. "We'll wait with you."

But that was going to mess everybody up and take even more time, so I prayed that Zeus won't try anything long enough to get off this thing and said, "Naw, it's okay. I'll see you guys at the bottom."

Grover and Annabeth both looked nervous, but they let the elevator door slide shut. Their car disappeared down the ramp.

Now the only people left on the observation deck were me, a little boy with his parents, the park ranger, and the fat lady with her Chihuahua.

I smiled uneasily at the fat lady, and not because I was technically in Zeus' domain. Ever since that lady came on the elevator with Annabeth and Grover and me I had a bad feeling about her and that dog.

The fat lady smiled back, her forked tongue flicked between her teeth and I knew I was in trouble.

Before I could reach for my sword, her Chihuahua jumped down and started yapping at me.

"Now, now, sonny," the lady said. "Does this look like a good time? We have all these nice people here."

"Doggie!" said the little boy. "Look, a doggie!"

His parents pulled him back.

The Chihuahua bared his teeth at me, foam dripping from his black lips.

"Well, son," the fat lady sighed. "If you insist."

Ice started forming in my stomach as the lady rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that skin of her arms was scaly and green. When she smiled, and I saw that her teeth were fangs. The pupils of her eyes were sideways slit, like a reptile's.

The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First the size of a Doberman, then to a lion. The bark became a roar.

The little boy screamed. His parents pulled him back toward the exit, straight into the park ranger, who stood, paralyzed, gaping at the monster.

The monster was now so tall it's back rubbed against the roof. It had the head of a lion with a blood-caked mane, the body and hooves of a giant goat, and a serpent for a tail, a ten-foot-long diamondback growing right out of its shaggy behind. There was a rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck with a dog tag, but I didn't need to try and read it to know what it is.

"The Chimera," I responded, "Which means you're—"

"Echidna, mother of all monsters," the monster-lady said.

I took out riptide and uncapped it, allowing it to transform and making the Chimera growled.

"You were reckless to enter Zeus' domain, son of Poseidon," Echidna said, "Now my son can destroy you."

The Chimera charged, its lion teeth gnashing. I leaped aside and dodge the bite.

I ended up next to the family and the park ranger, who were all screaming now, trying to pry open the emergency exit doors.

I need to think of a way to destroy this thing. Chimera was defeated by another half-brother of mine Bellerophontes. Something about a spear through the head while riding a pegasus, I think.

Well, I was missing one Pegasus, and I didn't want to hurt the civilians here. So instead, I ran to the other side of the deck and yelled, "Hey Chimera!"

The Chimera turned faster than I would've thought possible.

Before I could swing my sword at its head, it opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world's largest barbecue pit.

Knowing what was coming I struck riptide on the ground and quickly took out my thermos and uncapped it. Just as the Chimera blew fire at me, I summed a blast of water out of the thermos and used it to block the flames. Some of the flames manage to create an explosion creating a whole in the side of the arch.

Great, just what I need, something else for me to get blame for.

I summoned more power into the thermos and the jet of water grew stronger as it forced it's way through and hit the Chimera sending it back.

I quickly put away my thermos and grabbed sword and charged at the Chimera and struck it in the head. Sadly I forgot about its tail because before I struck it, the snake bit my calf.

As the Chimera disintegrated into dust my whole leg was on fire. I could feel the deadly poison racing up to my chest.

I backed into the whole and noticed that it was on the side where you could see the Mississippi. The water could save me—it has done it before.

By this time the Park ranger had opened the emergency exit and all the mortal were leaving.

"You'll pay for that, Percy Jackson," Echidna said.

"Maybe, but not today!" I responded as I jumped out of the arch through the whole toward the Mississippi River.


	14. I'm Officially A Fugitive

**I'm Officially A Fugitive**

If there's anything I love most about being the son of Poseidon is that I can jump six hundred feet in the air into a polluted river and not get crushed by the pressure or be affected by the pollution.

As the river raced toward me at the speed of a truck. Wind ripped the breath of my lungs. Steeples and skyscrapers and bridges tumbled in and out of my vision.

And then: _Flaaa-booooom!_

A whiteout of bubbles. I sank through the murk slowly now as I landed on the bottom of the river.

It didn't take long for the poison to leave my system once I was in the water, which was a good thing.

I was breathing in this polluted water like it was clean, and the fish didn't even bother to bug me. Once I was sure I would live once I leave the river, I stood up.

 _Fump-fump-fump._ A riverboat's paddlewheel churning above me, swirling the silt around.

 _Thanks dad,_ I thought.

I took riptide that I someone was still holding and capped it, returning it to its pen form as a woman's voice—that sounded ma bit like my mother said: _Your father would be happy to help you out anytime, Percy_.

I frowned as the voice seem to be coming from the water itself.

Then through the gloom, I saw her—a woman the color of the water, a ghost in the current, floating just a few feet form me. She had long billowing hair, and her eyes, barely visible, were green like mine.

"Who are you?" I asked.

 _A messenger,_ she replied, _I got a message from your father._

My eyes widened. My dad almost never send me a messenger—not to talk to me in person at least.

"What is it?" I asked.

 _Before you descend to the underworld, you must go to Santa Monica,_ the lady said. _There your father will give you one more gift to help you and your friends on your journey out of the Underworld. Until then, do not trust any gifts from anyone else._

I nodded as she faded away.

I didn't know what to believe, but I grabbed riptide, which fell out of my hands when I hit the river bank, and capped it—returning it to its pen and placed it in my packet and placed it in my pocket. Then I kicked up through the muck and propelled myself to the surface but not to jump out

…

I came ashore next to a floating McDonald's forcing myself wet.

A block away, every emergency vehicle in St. Louis was surrounding the Arch. Police helicopters circled overhead. The crowd of onlookers reminded me of Time Square on New Year's Eve.

A little girl said, "Mama! That boy walked out of the river."

"That's nice, dear," her mother said, craning her neck to watch the ambulances.

A news lady was talking for a camera: "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying to get to some of the survivors, to question them about the eyewitness reports of someone falling from the Arch."

 _At least there are survivors,_ I thought.

I tried to push through the crowd to see what was going on inside the police line.

"…an adolescent boy," another reporter was saying. "Channel Five has learn that surveillance cameras show an adolescent boy going wild on the observation deck with a fire extinguisher and a baseball bat. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again, no confirmed fatalities…"

I backed away, trying to keep my head down. I had to go a long way around the police perimeter. Uniformed officers and news reporters were everywhere, and I didn't want to risk manipulating the mist until I find my friends.

Just then, a familiar voice bleated, "Perrrcy!"

I turned and got tackled by Grover's bear hug—or goat hug. He said, "We thought you'd gone to Hades the hard way!"

Annabeth stood behind him looking relieved to see me, but had a mixture of anger. "What happened?"

"That fat lady and her dog turned out to be Echidna and the Chimera," I responded as I told them the story of what happened after they headed down.

"Whoa," said Grover. "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad."

"You think I don't know that," I responded.

Before Annabeth could respond, we passed another reporter doing a news break, and I almost froze in my tracks when he said, "Percy Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that the boy who may caused the explosion fits the description of a younge man wanted by authorities from his mother's disappearance to the Argo's mast replica crash. _And_ the boy is believed to be traveling west. From our viewers at home, here is a photo of Percy Jackson."

I quickly did a Mist manipulation to make my hair look red and my eyes look blue as well as other transformations to fool the mortals as we got away to the Amtrak.

Somehow, we made it back to the Amtrak, and with a bit more Mist manipulation to make sure mortals knew I was there before we left, we board the train and headed to Denver just before it was heading out of St. Louis.


	15. We Fall For A Thriller Love Ride Trap

**We Fall For A Thriller Love Ride Trap**

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. Luckily we didn't spend all our cash on the trip, but we haven't taken a shower since Camp Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious.

"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."

Grover and I didn't argue. We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, looking for a private place where we can create a rainbow for an Iris message and pray that we don't get noticed.

Finally we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. Even with me disguise in Mist form, any cop seeing three adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car might find it suspicious.

Since my thermos seem to only fire jets of water, Grover decided to use the spray gun. We each fed in quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST.

Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. The later afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors.

I took out one of my drachmas and handed it to Annabeth.

"O goddess, accept our offering." Annabeth prayed out loud.

She threw in the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.

"Half-Blood Hill," she requested.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then we were looking through the mist of strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a familiar sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.

"Luke!" I called.

He turned, eyes wide. The Iris message made it like he was standing three feet in front of me, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow.

"Annabeth! Thank gods" his scarred face broke into a grin. "Are you guys okay. Where's Percy?"

Annabeth was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face.

"I'm here and we're fine!" I waved, "I had a few incidents fighting monsters so I'm using the Mist to disguise myself. Where's Chiron?"

Thankfully Luke seem to get the idea about why I was using the Mist.

"He's down in the cabins," Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?"

"I'm here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?"

Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement.

"Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled.

"I'll take care of it!" Annabeth yelled back, looking relieved. "Come on, Grover!"

"What?" Grover said. "But—"

"Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered.

Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed me the spray gun and followed Annabeth.

I readjusted the hose so I could keep the rainbow going and still see Luke.

"Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted to me over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, Percy. Word leaked out about a possible standoff between Poseidon and Zeus there being a traitor in camp, and they're starting to point fingers. Ares, Aphrodite and Apollo has already decided that if it happens they'll back up Poseidon, more or less, while Athena is backing Zeus."

Athena backing up Zeus doesn't surprise me. Despite my friendship with Annabeth and some of her siblings, Poseidon and Athena were still rivals and most of Athena's kids are loyal to their mother enough to not go against her.

In the next stall, I heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically.

"So what's your status?" Luke asked me. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you."

I told him what happened from our journey, including my dreams. It felt good talking to him about this stuff, it was like the good old days. I didn't even realize how long I had talked until the beeper went off on the spray machine, and I realized I only had one more minute before the water shut off.

"I wish I could be there," Luke told me. "We can't help much here, I'm afraid, but listen… it had to be Hades who took the Master Bolt. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip there that day and we saw him.'

"But the gods can't take each other's symbol of power directly," I responded.

"That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still… Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible."

"And Annabeth wouldn't do something like that," I responded.

"Right," Luke responded.

In the stall next to us, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car door slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash.

"You'd better go see what that was," Luke said. "Listen, are you using those flying shoes wisely? I'll feel better if I know you have?"

"Oh… uh, yeah!" I tried not to sound like a guilty liar. "Yeah, they've come in handy."

"Really?" he grinned. "They fit and everything?"

The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate.

"Well, take care of yourself out there in Denver," Luke called his voice getting fainter. "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree this time if he just—"

But the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. I was alone in a wet empty car wash stall.

Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw my concern face. Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?"

"I'll tell you later," I responded. "Come on, let's find us some dinner."

A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas, while the three of us were deciding how to spend what's left of our money wisely.

Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?"

I said, "We want to order dinner."

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

I was about to reply when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb.

All conversations in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like… well, Caucasian human skin.

The guy on the bike was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face I'd only seen during winter solstice meetings before I went home for this school year; with an oily black crude cut and cheeks that were scared from many, many fights.

 _Ares,_ I thought.

I can't say I'm happy to see the god of war. In fact after my first winter solstice meeting, Chiron decided it was best I stay clear from Ares as his radiant power that makes anyone feel angry not only affect me but almost got me in serious trouble with Olympus just over the fact some of the Olympians saw me as a potential threat.

When Ares walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew over the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

Ares said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window.

He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?"

He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen.

Ares looked at me. I couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades, but I tried to keep any anger, resentment, and bitterness I was feeling to myself, but it was really hard.

He gave me a wicked grin. "Nice Mist disguise, Jackson. Add a bit more muscle and I would think you were a body building model."

I shouldn't be surprise Ares saw through my Mist form.

"What do you want Ares?" I asked.

"I heard you and your friends were in town and I got a proposition for you," Ares replied.

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes.

Ares handed her a few gold drachmas.

She looked nervously at the coins. "But these aren't…"

Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold. I wanted to speak up but I had nothing to say that wouldn't insult a god.

"Now, my proposition," Ares continued, "I need you to do me a favor."

"What kind of favor?" I asked.

"It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little… date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me?"

I wanted to say no, but instead I ask, "What do we get in return?"

Ares smirked. "I know your quest. When that _item_ was first stolen and after _you_ were proven innocent, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful…" He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well… if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath."

"You told him Hades stole the bolt?"

"Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognize it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest."

"Thanks," I grumbled.

"Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends, and because I'm in a good mood I can tell you something I found out about your mother."

I clench my fist. I wanted information from my mom yes, but I also have this quest. But if we can get a ride west to finish this quest then the information might be worth it

"Fine," I responded.

Ares' grin grew. "The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

That sounded like a ride Aphrodite's kids talked about taking their dates on if they ever get the chance, so it wasn't a surprise that the _girlfriend_ was Aphrodite. That didn't worry me though, it was who might have scared them away: Hephaestus—Ares brother and Aphrodite's husband. Whenever Aphrodite cheated on her husband with his arrogant jerk for a brother, Hephaestus been known to create traps for them.

Some might find it strange that Hephaestus would go to an extent for a cheating wife when he has kids out of wedlock himself, but truth was he wasn't shallow person either. You can ask any of his kids and they can tell you that most women he had kids with ended up being the kind that are the exact opposite of Aphrodite when it comes to shallowness, and did care for him for his kind nature and not disgusted by his looks.

"Oh, and I'll need your backpack," Ares said.

"Wait what?" I responded.

"Relax, I'm just going to pack you some extra supplies to help you," Ares responded.

"Just do it, Percy," Annabeth said.

I glared at Ares before I took off my backpack, unzipped it, took out my fossilize sea shell thermos, thermos full of nectar, Ziploc bag full of Ambrosia, a couple of sand dollars, drachmas and cash to give to Annabeth to hold before I gave my backpack to Ares.

"I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me," Ares warned.

He disappeared into nothingness, leaving a temporary aura of rage in his wake.

"Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good."

I stared out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared.

Did Ares really know something about my mom, or was he just trying to play with my Hero's flaw.

"Let's finish eating and get this over with," I responded.

No one argued against the idea.

…

The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D.

The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy.

At this point I canceled out the Mist around me since the area was deserted, returning to my natural appearance—black hair, sea green eyes and all.

It was the kind of place you wouldn't think Aphrodite would want to go to for a date, but at the same time the perfect place for her and Ares to go on a secret date to avoid getting caught and humiliated by Hephaestus.

"So how do we get in?" I asked.

 _"Maia!"_ Grover's shoes sprouted wings.

He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing. "You guys coming?"

Annabeth and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top.

The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. After reading some of the names of the rides, I was questioning the sanity of those who named them. I mean, there was the Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit?

No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise.

Eventually we decided to raid a souvenir shop that had been left open with Merchandise still lined on the shelves for clothes since the ones we brought with us were dirty. We also got a few more goodies just for the fun of it.

Soon we were all decked out in Waterland advertisement clothes.

We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. While we walk, I started to wonder what kind of trap Hephaestus had set up. If it were anything like the first trap he had for Ares and Aphrodite, it would include a golden net and involving some way for the other gods to see it. But from what I heard, over the centuries, Hephaestus been getting a bit more creative with his traps—using a combination his inventions and every out-of-the-way places Aphrodite and Ares tried to use to his advantage.

Finally we found it the ride. It was an empty pool that I bet would make a great place to practice for swim meets if it was filled if it wasn't for the fact that it was built to be a love ride.

Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Grover crept toward the edge. "Guys, look."

Maroon at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares' shield, a polished circle of bronze.

"This is too easy," I said.

"You're right," Annabeth said, "Look!"

She pointed to the base of the nearest Cupid statue with had the Greek letter for Eta carved there.

"Isn't that the symbol of Hephaestus?" I asked.

"Yeah," Annabeth replied, "We better keep an eye out for more of these."

I nodded. "I'm going to go down there."

"I'll go with you," Grover said.

"No," I told him. "I want you to stay up top with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, a flying ace, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, incase something goes wrong."

Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?"

I stared at Grover like he was going to jinx me.

"Oh, right," Grover responded.

I didn't want to ask Annabeth to come down with me because one: it was a love ride, and two: if the trap was still usable it would be awkward with Athena and Poseidon for the both of us.

But when I started sliding down the side of the pool, Annabeth followed me, muttering about making sure I don't mess this up. Judging form her expression, this wasn't an easy decision.

We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I looked up and noticed that there were mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which direction we looked.

 _No wonder Ares and Aphrodite went here_ , I thought.

Annabeth picked up the scarf and stuffed in her pocket. I guess she wanted to make sure no one mess with love magic.

I touched the shield and trouble started for us. My hand broke through something that had been connecting to the dashboard, a trip wire.

"Wait," Annabeth said, "There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, another Eta. This is a trap."

"Too late, I said revealing the snapped trip wire in my hand.

Noises erupted all around us, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine.

Grover yelled. "Guys!"

Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could suggest to take cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net.

I grabbed the shield and Annabeth and I ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down.

"Come on!" Grover shouted.

He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands.

The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute… Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight…"

"We're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!" Annabeth screamed.

We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic wind up creepy-crawlies: bronze gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, started scuttling out toward us in a wave of clacking, whirling metal.

 _Oh no,_ I thought.

"Spiders!" Annabeth screamed. "Sp—sp—aaaah!"

I'd only seen Annabeth this terrorized a few times, one of which was after Luke's brothers Travis and Connor Stoll first came to camp and decided to make their first day big that they thought would get on a camp bead by pulling the biggest prank which involved pouring spiders in Athena Cabin. Luke scorned them heavily for it, and it took Annabeth a long time to trust _any_ child of Hermes—other than Luke—again.

The things were coming out from around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward the center of the pool, completely surrounding us.

I helped Annabeth onto the boat, opened up Annabeth's backpack, and took out my Thermos. I uncapped it and focus all my power into it firing a powerful blast of water at the metallic spiders, sending them away. Only problem was that the Thermos didn't have the complete wide range we needed to get rid of all these things and whenever I aimed elsewhere, more spiders started coming at where I just fired at.

"Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker.

The spiders still coming at us started spitting metallic threads to tie us down.

Grover hovered above the pool in his flying sneakers, trying to pull the net loose but it won't budge.

"Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called.

 _Wait, if this is a pool, then there should be pipes,_ I thought.

I looked around and sure enough I saw pipes behind the mirrors where the spiders had come from. I stopped my thermos capped it put it away for now and grabbed Ares shield and strapped it to my back. Then I stretched my hand at the pipes and concentrate. I felt a churning feeling in my stomach and sensed the water system turning itself on as water started moving through the pipes

"Two, one, _zero_!"

Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. I pulled Annabeth with me as I jumped into the water as the metallic spiders were being crushed into the concrete wall as I kept the waves from crushing us.

Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus.

Grover manage to break through the net and came down to help us.

"Get Annabeth out of here first, I'll be fine," I responded.

"What?" Grover said.

"Just do it!" I ordered.

Grover nodded and pulled Annabeth up in the air.

I had a crazy idea, and I only done this a few times on Camp Half-Blood beach, but I decided to use it. I dove into the metallic full water deep enough and then had the water propelled me high enough in the air through the hole Grover created and high enough in the air where I land in the concrete ground with nothing more than scratches and bruises—nothing a little nectar and water couldn't heal.

I manage to get up and turned to the Cupid-Cams that were still filing. I got an idea how to get back on Ares. I didn't care if he is a god, he had this coming.

"This part of the show is brought to you from Ares, the god who send us to pick up his shield knowing about Hephaestus' trap," I yelled before doing a bow. "Good night everybody!"

The Cupid turned back to their original position. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool.

"Let's go guys," I told my friends feeling a bit better knowing that the rest of Olympus knew Ares was the reason Annabeth and I was in the pool in the first place.


	16. Vegas' Number One Magical Tourist Trip

**Vegas's Number One Magical Tourist Trap**

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot.

"I bet you feel better after that little remark you made to Olympus," Ares sneered.

"Let me guess, Dad and Athena are waiting for you to give them a reason why you send us to Hephaestus trap in the first place?" I asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Ares said with a glare.

I took off his shield and shoved it back to him.

Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck over there?" he pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read because it was reverse-printed white on black: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

I said, "You're kidding."

Ares snapped is fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's your backpack, restocked as promised."

He slung my backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to me. Inside were the stuff I left inside it, plus some more extra clothes, mmoney, drachmas and a bag of double stuff Oreos.

I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was now watching out the window, like she was afraid of Ares might hurt us. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us.

That when it dawned to me, with the _excitement_ of the water park, I forgot to manipulate the Mist around me to make my Mist form.

 _Great, just what I need._

"Let's go Annabeth, Grover," I said as I headed to the truck.

"Whoa, hold on, don't you want to know about your mother?" Ares asked.

I didn't dare to answer.

"You should know she's being held hostage."

I froze before turning to him. "Hostage?"

"That's right, punk," Ares grinned, "Corpse breath is holding your mother captive to use you."

I glared at Ares. What he said would make sense, but—

"You're lying."

"You saw it yourself kid," Ares said, "Your mom disappeared in a golden shower, that's not a natural death, or unnatural for that matter."

"I'm not being used," I responded.

Ares laughed. "Oh yeah? See you around, kid."

He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street.

"Percy, you should know better than making a god an enemy, especially _that_ god," Annabeth warned.

"Right now, I don't care," I responded.

"Hey guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but…"

He pointed toward the diner. At the register ,the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black overalls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck.

"If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry."

As much as I don't like it I had to agree. Besides, I'd seen enough of Denver for one day.

We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind us.

…

The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter.

The trailer was dark inside until I uncapped Anaklusmos. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of fifty metal cages were three of the most pathetic animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing I didn't know the name for.

Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The Zebra and antelope had each gotten Styrofoam tray hamburger meat. The Zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL!

Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flied buzzing around his pink eyes and ribs showed through his white fur.

The zebra must have recognized me because it said, _My Lord, you came to help._

"This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?"

He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, and I would've helped him, but then the truck's engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down.

Grover tried to talk to the animals in a series of goat bleats as Annabeth and I started properly feeding the three animals and giving them water. Annabeth even cut the balloon off the antelope's horn. We would have got the Zebra too, but we decided to it was too risky with the truck bumping around.

 _Will you help us, my lord?_ The zebra asked me.

"Yeah, in the morning," I responded, "Right now it's too risky with the truck moving."

The zebra nodded.

After five years of hearing horses or horse-like creatures call me lord, boss, even master once (don't ask), I decided to not argue against them and let them call me anything they want.

Grover curled up on a turnip sack; Annabeth handed back my stuff and in return I gave her the bag of Double Stuf Oreos.

"hey," Annabeth said, "I'm sorry about freaking out back at the water park, Percy."

"That's okay," I joked. "I just hope you don't hold it against Hephaestus' kids for it."

"Don't worry, I won't," Annabeth said, "I might on Ares' kids for a while though."

I held back a laugh. "I might join you on that."

This time Annabeth held back a giggle.

"Despite our luck in this quest, I can't help but think Thalia would be proud of the three of us right now," I responded. "Taking on this difficult quest for Olympus, working together to take down every monster the world could throw at us."

"You were the one who took down the monsters at the end," Annabeth said.

"Yeah, but if it wasn't for you and Grover helping me half the time, I probably would have failed," I responded, "Your quick planning and Grover's fancy flying."

I thought Grover was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?"

Annabeth and I laughed.

Annabeth pulled apart an Oreo and handed me half. "In the Iris message… what did Luke say?"

I munched my cookie and thought how to answer. "Just that Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree."

Grover let out a mournful bray.

"I shouldn't have come on this quest," his voice trembled.

"Don't talk that way," Annabeth responded. "I don't blame you for what happened to Thalia, and neither does Percy."

"Yeah, besides—" I stopped.

"What is it," Annabeth responded.

I sighed. "Luke and I didn't want to tell you or Grover, but we knew Thalia's sacrifice was predestined."

"What do you mean?" Annabeth asked.

I sighed and told them about Halcyon Green—Son of Apollo and his predictions and sacrifice. I left out Luke's prediction, saying that was something they'll have to ask Luke—which Annabeth and Grover agreed about.

Annabeth frowned as she took out her knife. "So your book, my knife—"

"Was part of Hal's legacy that he left for us," I responded. "Luke wasn't kidding when he said your knife was special. Luke gave it to you, he did to keep you safe just as it kept Hal safe up until he have it to Luke."

Too my surprise Annabeth smiled before frowning.

"Hal said Thalia would see her family member again right? Are you sure it's not her mother?"

"I'm sure. It probably was to painful for Thalia to tell anyone," I said.

"Yeah, it probably was," Annabeth said.

It didn't take long for Grover to fall asleep. Annabeth didn't say anything but she was playing with her necklace, which means she had something on her mind. I noticed the college ring on her necklace. It was a gift from her father as a peace offering to Annabeth so she could go home.

"You should contact him," I said.

"What?" Annabeth responded.

"Your dad. Just because you can't get along with your step-mom doesn't mean you should ignore your dad," I responded, "Especially since he gone so far just to ask you to come home."

"Percy—" Annabeth responded.

"I'm just saying," I continued. "I mean, you said the reason you came back to camp was because you still had fights with your step-mom."

Annabeth thought of it. "Maybe if we make it out of this quest alive I'll consider it."

Annabeth fell asleep after we talked a bit more.

I had trouble following her example, with Grover snowing, a zebra constantly asking me to help get rid of the gum on its mane, and an albino lion staring hungrily at me, but eventually I closed my eyes.

…

My nightmare started out as something not out of the unusual. I was being forced to take a standardized test. All the other kids were going out to recess, and the teacher was watching me as I strugle

I looked over at the next desk and saw a familiar girl sitting here, also wearing a straitjacket. She was my age, with unruly black, punk-style hair, dark eyeliner around her electric blue eyes, and freckles across her nose. I recognize her immediately.

 _Thalia._

Like me she struggled against the straitjacket, and looked at me to say, _Do it Percy. You're already broken free._

Before I could respond the teacher spoke up.

 _Percy Jackson,_ the teacher said in that creepy voice said, _Yes, the exchange went well, I see._

I was back in the dark cavern, spirits of the dead drifted around me. Unseen in the pit, the monstrous thing was speaking, but this time it wasn't addressing me. The numbing power of its voice seemed directed somewhere else.

 _And he suspects nothing?_ It asked.

Another voice, one I almost recognized, answered at my shoulder. _Nothing, my lord. He is as ignorant as the rest._

I looked over, but no one was there. The speaker was invisible.

 _Deception upon deception,_ the thing in the pit mused aloud. _Excellent_.

 _Truly, my lord_ , said the voice next to me, _you are well-named the Crooked One. But do we really need to force him into this._

 _Don't let your loyalty cloud your judgement, boy. You have already shown your limits. You would have failed me completely already if I had not intervene._

 _But, my lord—_

 _Please, little servant. Our six months may have not gone as I hoped, but Zeus still distrust Poseidon, and Poseidon was forced to play his most desperate card. Now we shall use it against him. Shortly you shall have the reward you wish, and your revenge. As soon as both items are delivered into my hands… but wait. He is here."_

 _What?_ The invisible servant suddenly sound worried, _But how?_

 _Blast his father's blood—the boy brought himself hither._ The voice snarled. Then its cold power turned back on me. _So… you wish to dream of your quest, young half-blood? Then I will oblige._

The scene changed.

I was standing in a vast throne room with black marble and bronze floors. The empty, horrid throne was made from human bones fused together. Standing at the foot for the dais was my mother, frozen in shimmering golden light, her arms outstretched.

The grinning skeletons in Greek armor crowded around me, draping me with silk robes, wreathing my head with laurels that smoked with Chimera poison, burning into my scalp.

The evil voice began to laugh. _Hail, the conquering hero!_

…

I woke with a start.

Grover was shaking my shoulder. "The truck's stopped," he said. "We think they're coming to check on the animals."

"Hide!" Annabeth hissed.

She said it easy. She just put on her magic cap and disappeared. Grover and I had to dive behind feed sacks and hope we looked like turnips.

The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in.

"Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I haul appliances." He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes.

"You hot, big boy?" he asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face.

The lion roared in indignation.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said.

Next to me under the turnip sacks, Grover tensed. For a peace-loving herbivore, he looked downright murderous.

The trucker threw the antelope a squashed looking Happy Meal bag. He smirked at the zebra. "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of _you_ this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!"

The zebra, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at me saying, _Free me, lord. Please._

For once I didn't want to argue, but we need a distraction.

There was a loud _knock, knock, knock_ on the side of the trailer.

The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?"

The voice outside—it must've been Eddies's—shouted back, "Maurice? What'd ya say?"

"What are you banging for?"

Knock, knock, knock.

Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?"

Our guy Maurice rolled his eyes and went back outside cursing Eddie for being an idiot.

A second later, Annabeth appeared next to me. She must've done the banging to get Maurice out of the trailer. She said, "This transport business can't be legal."

"No kidding," Grover said. He paused, as if listening. "The lion says these guys are animal smugglers!"

 _That's right_ , the zebra said.

"We've got to free them!" Grover said. He and Annabeth both looked at me, waiting for my lead.

The zebra said, _Open my cage, lord. Please. I'll be fine after that_.

"Okay," I responded, "Let's do this."

Outside, Eddie and Maurice were still yelling at each other, but I knew they'd be coming inside to torment the animals again any minute. I grabbed Riptide and slashed the lock off the zebra's cage.

The zebra burst out. It turned to me and bowed. _Thank you, lord._

Grover held up his hand and said something to the zebra in goat talk, like a blessing.

Just as Maurice was poking his head back inside to check out the noise, the zebra leaped over him and into the street. They was yelling and screaming and cars honking. He rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zebra galloping down a wide boulevard lines with hotels and casinos and neon signs. We'd just released a zebra in Las Vegas.

Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!"

"Now would be a good time to leave," Annabeth said.

"The other animals first," Grover said.

I cut the locks with my sword. Grover raised his hands and spoke the same goat blessing he'd used on the zebra.

"Good luck," I told the animals. The antelope and the Lion burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets.

Some tourist screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of stunt by one of the casinos.

"Will the animals be okay?" I asked Grover.

"Don't worry," he said. "I placed a satyr's sanctuary on them so they'll reach the wild safely. They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live. But it only works on wild animals."

"Come on," Annabeth said, "Let's get out of this filthy truck."

We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention.

We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and a small replica of the statue of liberty.

I wasn't sure what we were looking for. Maybe just a place to get out of the heat for a few minutes, finds a sandwich and a glass of lemonade, make a new plan for getting west.

We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flowers, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure.

The doorman smiled at us. "Hey, kids. You looked tired. You want to come in and sit down?"

I'd learned over the five years when to be suspicious of my surroundings. You never know when a monster or a god will appear. But this guy was normal. One look at him, and I could see. Besides, I was so relieved to hear somebody who sounded sympathetic that I nodded and said we'd loved to come in. Inside, we took one look around, and Grover said, "Whoa."

The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine.

"Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guess he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key."

I stammered. "Um, but…"

"No, no," he said laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, room 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your Lotus Cash cards. They worked in the restaurants and on all the games and rides."

He handed us each a green plastic credit card.

I knew there must be some mistake. Obviously he thought we were some millionaire's kids. But I took the card and said, "How much is on here?"

His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when does it run out of cash?"

He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay.

We took the elevator upstairs and checked out our room. It was a suite with three separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas, and chips. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and water beds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub, and sure enough, there was a skeet shooting machine and a shotgun, so we could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun. I didn't see how that could be legal, but I thought it was pretty cool. The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing, though I doubted we'd ever find time to look at the view with a room like this.

"Oh, goodness," Annabeth said. "This is…"

"Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet."

There were clothes in the closet, and they fit me. I frowned, thinking that this was a little strange.

I tossed my backpack to my bed and took a shower, which felt awesome after a week of grimy travel. I changed clothes and ate a bag of chips, drank three Cokes, and came out feeling better than I had in a long time. In the back of my mind, some small problem kept nagging me. I'd had a dream or something… I needed to talk to my friends. But I was sure it could wait.

I came out of the bedroom and found that Annabeth and Grover had also showered and changed clothes. Grover was eating potato chips to his heart's content, while Annabeth cranked up the National Geographic Channel, which was expected from her.

Without Grover even noticing, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again.

"So what now?" Annabeth asked. "Sleep?"

Grover and I looked at each other and grinned. We both held up our green plastic Lotus Cash Cards.

"Play time," I said.

I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun. For the first seven years of my life, I came from a relatively poor family. It wasn't until my mom divorced Gabe and started working toward her dream job while I was in camp that we manage to at least move up to lower middle class but we still couldn't afford places like this.

I bungee-jumped the lobby five or six times, did the waterslide, snowboarded the artificial ski slope, and played virtual-reality laser tag and FBI sharpshooter. I saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really liked the reverse hunter thing—where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks. I saw Annabeth playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D sim game where you build your own city, and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. I didn't think much of it but Annabeth loved it.

I'm not sure when I first realized something was wrong.

Probably, it was when I noticed a guy standing next to me at VR sharpshooters. He was about thirteen, I guess, but his clothes were weird. I thought he was some Elvis impersonator's son. He wore bell-bottom jeans and a red T-shirt with black piping, and his hair was permed and gelled like a New Jersey girl's on homecoming night.

We played a game of sharpshooter together and he said, "Groovy, man. Been here two weeks, and the games kept getting better and better."

Groovy?

Later, while we were talking. I said something was "sick," and he looked at me kind of startled, as if he'd never heard the word used that way before.

He said his name was Darrin, but as soon as I started asking him questions he got bored with me and started to go back to the computer screen.

I said, "Hey, Darrin?"

"What?"

"What year is it?"

He frowned at me. "In the game?"

"No. In real life."

He had to think about it. "1977."

"No," I said, getting a little scared. "Really."

"Hey, man. Bad vibes. I got a game happening."

After that he totally ignored me.

I started talking to people, and I found it wasn't easy. They were glued to the TV screen, or the video game, or their food, or whatever. I found a guy who told me it was 1985. Another guy told me it was 1993. They all claimed they hadn't been in here very long, a few days, a few weeks at most. They didn't really know and they didn't care.

Then I remember something from the Odyssey—Odysseus was on an island like this: The Lair of the Lotus Eaters. If this place was a modernize version of that then—

 _We're in trouble_ , I thought.

I tried to remember why we were here. We were going to Los Angeles. We were supposed to find the entrance to the Underworld. My mother… for a scary second, I had trouble remembering her name. Sally. Sally Jackson. She was taken. And my dad—Poseidon—he needs me to find the Master Bolt and returned it to Zeus.

I decided to quickly go back in our rooms and grabbed Annabeth's Grover's and my backpacks. I wasn't going to stay here any longer than needed.

Once down on the main floor I found Annabeth still building her city.

"Come on," I told her. "We've got to get out of here."

No response.

I shook her. "Annabeth?"

She looked up, annoyed. "What?"

"We need to leave."

"Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers—"

"Annabeth, this place is a trap," I responded

She didn't respond until I shook her again. "What?"

"Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!"

"Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes."

"Annabeth, this place is the modernize version of the Lair of the Lotus Eaters. You check in and you stay forever."

"So?" she asked. "Can you imagine a better place?"

That's when I made a mistake I regretted. I grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game.

"Hey!" She screamed and hit me, but nobody else even bother looking at us. They were too busy.

I made her look directly in my eyes. I said, "Us meeting, Luke giving you your knife, Thalia's sacrifice."

That jarred her. Her vision cleared. "Oh my gods," she said. "How long have we—"

"I don't know, but we've got to find Grover." I handed Annabeth her backpack and we headed off to find Grover.

We found him still playing Virtual Deer Hunger.

"Grover!" we both shouted.

He said, "Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!"

"Grover!"

He turned the plastic gun on me and started clicking, as if I were just another image from the screen. This was better than being hit, but is still was pathetic.

I looked at Annabeth, and together we took Grover by the arms and dragged him away. His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, "No! I just got to a new level! No!"

The Lotus bellhop hurried up to us. "Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?"

"We're leaving," I told him.

"Such a shame," he said, and I got the feeling that he really meant it, that we'd be breaking his heart if we went. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members."

He held out the cards, and I wanted one. I knew that if I took one, I'd never leave. I'd stay here, happy forever, playing games forever, and soon I'd forgot my parents, my quest, and maybe my own name. I'd been playing virtual rifleman with groovy Disco Darrin forever.

Grover reached for the card, but Annabeth yanked his arms and said, "No, thanks."

We walked toward the door, and as we did, the smell of the food and the sounds of the games seemed to get more and more inviting. I thought about our room upstairs. We could just stay the night, sleep in a real bed for once…

Then we burst through the doors of the Lotus Casino and ran down the sidewalk. It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out of the desert.

I ran to the nearest newspaper stand and read the year first. Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth.

We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days.

We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.


	17. We Shop For Water Beds

**We Shop For Water Beds**

It was Annabeth's idea.

She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."

"You accept Casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked.

He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em first."

Annabeth handed him her green Lotus Cash card.

He looked skeptically.

"Swipe it," Annabeth invited.

He did as I thought, _if this works I'll give mine to my mom to pay for our schooling._

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.

The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles… uh, your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up straighter, obviously liking being called "Your Highness". "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

Maybe she shouldn't have told him that.

The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert.

"Your pride is showing," I told Annabeth.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. Remember when I mention about Demigods having fatal flaws? Well Annabeth's fatal flaw is Hubris—deadly pride or arrogance.

…

On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. I told Annabeth and Grover about my latest dream, but the details got sketchier the more I tried to remember them. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it was somebody I knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord"… some special name or title… but it didn't match any of Hades' nicknames despite the throne room shown to me match how Hades' throne room is normally described.

One thing I didn't bring up was that while we were talking, I started to realize what the pit might be. The only problem was if it was what I think it is, then whatever in it trying to convince me to help it is a lot more powerful and dangerous than Hades. Although I didn't bring it up, though, it was obvious that Annabeth had an idea too as she grew pale.

"It _has_ to be Hades," Annabeth said, "Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—"

"I don't know, this whole quest seemed wrong," I said, "The pit mention two items being stolen. What's the second item?"

Grover shook his head mystified. Annabeth wasn't much better which made me worried.

Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES.

I got the feeling I was missing one simple, critical piece of information. The more I thought about my quest, the more I was sure that confronting Hades wasn't the real answer. There was something else going on, something even more dangerous.

The problem was: we were hurtling toward the Underworld at ninety-five miles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt. If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and judging from the storm clouds, Zeus wasn't planning to wait any longer for his master bolt.

"The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth assured me. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing."

She tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors.

The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the breaks hissed on eighteen wheeler, it reminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice.

…

At sunset, the driver dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.

Grover, Annabeth, and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" Annabeth asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I could swear I see a father-daughter-surfers out there. It been almost six years since I been in Montauk, but the memory was still fresh on my mind of the last time I was there—the only time I was there without my mom but with Luke Thalia and Annabeth, meeting my dad in person without knowing he was my dad. Seeing the father-daughter surfers out there was an excellent reminder why I'm doing, for my family.

I stepped into the surf.

"Percy?" Annabeth said. "What are you doing?"

I kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.

She called after me, "You know how polluted the water is? There're all kinds of toxic—"

That's when my head went under.

I created a thin layer of bubble around me so I wouldn't breath in the polluted water. The pollution of the Mississippi river was enough pollution for me for one quest.

I walked down into the shoals. A normal person shouldn't be able to see through the murk, being the son of Poseidon, I'm not a normal person. I could tell where everything is. I could sense the surfers paddling up above through the water. I saw sand dollars up above, but I didn't dare taking them.

I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of the water like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark.

I wasn't surprise it wasn't attacking me. Most sea creatures wouldn't dare attack me.

It seemed to want grab onto its dorsal fin, which I did with both hands. It took off, pulling ne along. The shark carried me down into the darkness. It deposited me at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there. The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above.

Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. A woman's voice, like my mother's, called: "Percy Jackson."

As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk. Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding.

She dismounted. The sea horse and the Mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done."

I bowed to the lady. "You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River."

"Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve his court."

"And… you serve my dad's court?"

She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest.

I remember all the time I saw the water spirits were watching me, some even flirted with me.

"Where's my dad?" I asked.

"He's currently preparing for the worse case scenario if you fail this quest," the Nereid told me, "Besides, you should know by now, he is forbidden to help you directly."

"Oh, right." Too be honest I try not think about it.

"I'm here to give you a warning and a gift."

She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm.

"I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived."

"I know—Orpheus, with his music skills, Hercules with his strength, and Houdini, who escaped even the depths of Tartarus." I responded.

"And you have more power than you realize," The Nereid said. "Take these. Therefore take these, and when you are in need smash a pearl at your feet."

"What will happen?"

"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"What about the warning?"

Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you mistrust your own judgement. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave. Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson."

She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void.

"Good-bye young hero," she called back, her voice fading into the depths. "You must listen to your heart." She became a speck of growing green, and then she was gone.

I wanted to follow her down into the darkness. I wanted to see my father's court. But I looked up at the sunset darkening on the surface. My friends were waiting. We had so little time…

I kicked upward toward the shore.

It was sunset by time I reached the beach. My clothes dried instantly as soon as I left the water. I told Grover and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls.

Annabeth grimaced. "No gifts comes without a price."

"Tell me about it. Since there's three pearls, dad must make be making sure I don't stray from the point of the quest," I responded.

"Why would you stray from—oh, right," Annabeth responded, "We'll find a way to save your mom, Percy."

"I know," I responded.

We left the sea behind us.

…

With some spare money we had from the quest and what Ares gave us, we tried to take a bus into West Hollywood. I decided to use my Mist form to disguise from Mortal eyes. I address slip I'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium when we raid for supplies, but he'd never heard of the address DOA Recording Studios mention on it, which ruined the idea of using the bus.

We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book.

I froze in front of an appliance-store window we passed because the television was playing an interview with somebody who look very familiar—my ex-stepdad, Smelly Gabe. He was talking to Barbara Walters—I mean, as if he were some kind huge celebrity. She was interviewing in his apartment that my mom left him in the divorce, in the middle of the poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand. My guess it's his latest victim for a girlfriend or a wife.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my counsellor, I would have been a wreck, especially after the divorce. I don't know why Sally choose my former stepson. He was such a trouble maker. I knew he was a trouble maker from the moment I met him."

I clenched my fist. It was Gabe's own fault he and my mom divorce. I was the victim.

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of his troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Annabeth, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"C'mon," Grover told me. He hauled me away before I could punch a hole in the appliance-store window.

Once we were in the clear, I decided to use Mist Manipulation on all of us to Annabeth's and Grover's choice.

Annabeth had black long hair like her mother's but with sky blue eyes, and Native American skin tone and facial difference. Grover was disguised as a Asian-American kid with Green eyes.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play.

L.A. was more spread out, chaotic, hard to move around than New York City. It remind me of Ares. It wasn't for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, the summer solstice.

We walk past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

"Just ignore them," I responded.

But before we know it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids circled us. Six of them in all—white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces.

Instinctively, I uncapped Riptide.

When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade.

I knew Celestial Bronze were useless against mortals, but I slashed at him, hoping it will distract them.

Sure enough, the kid yelped as the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. What the.

"Run!" I screamed at Annabeth and Grover.

We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner.

"There!" Annabeth shouted.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated.

It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified.

We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside.

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

We all jumped.

Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.

His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck—I couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

I resisted the urge to say, _Yes, you are._

"Sorry to barge in," I told him. "We were just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

I was about to say _No, thanks,_ when he put a huge paw on my shoulder and steered me deeper into the showroom.

There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different kind of patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly mover a bed cover with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil flavored Jell-O.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."

"Um," I said, "I don't think…"

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

"Almost what?" I asked suspiciously.

He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

Annabeth said, "But what—"

He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her.

"Hey!" she protested.

Crusty snapped his fingers. _"Ergo!"_

Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress.

Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down.

N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!"

The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and grinned. "Almost, darn it.

I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around my neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a second."

"Let my friends go."

"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first. All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit.

Annabeth and Grover kept struggling.

"Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. _"Ergo!"_

A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and Annabeth's ankles, and then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends.

I couldn't help but watch my friends get stretched to their death. Then it hit me. Didn't Theseus face a situation like this—Procrustes if I'm right. If this is the same giant, he probably changed his name to make himself sound more pleasing. If I remember correctly, Theseus slayed this guy using his own trap.

 _Maybe I can do the same thing,"_ I thought.

"You know what, Crusty, I love that water bed with the Lava lamps, will you show me them again?" I asked.

Crusty grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on my neck. "Sure thing, kid."

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind her," I told Crusty. "So what do you do if a customer is over six feet long?"

"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix."

He let go of my neck, but before I could reach, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed axe. He said, "I just centered the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs off the other end."

"Ah," I said, swallowing hard. "Sensible."

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"

The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds. I didn't have much time.

"So, kid, do you want to try it out?" Crusty asked about the lava-lamp bed.

"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even better for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"

"Guaranteed."

"No way."

"Way."

"Show me."

He sat down eagerly on the bed patted the mattress. "No waves. _See_?"

I snapped my fingers. _"Ergo."_

Ropes lashed around Crusty and flatten him against the mattress.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Centered him just right," I said.

The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's hole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"No!" He said. "Wait! This is just a demo!"

"Sorry, Procrustes," I uncapped Riptide. "But you're too big. I'll need to make adjustments…"

Procrustes' eyes widened as I swung my sword. Needless to say, Procrustes won't be tricking any customers to a deal any time soon.

I cut the ropes on the other bed freeing my friends. As they got to their feet, groaning and wincing.

"Couldn't you been faster?" Annabeth asked.

"I didn't know he would fall for the same trap twice," I responded.

I looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Ares Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commission for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map.

"Come on," I told my friends.

"Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death!"

"Then you're ready for the Underworld," I said. "It's only a block from here."


	18. Annabeth Does Obedience School

**Annabeth Does Obedience School**

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at golden letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOTTERING. NO LIVING.

It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat as tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

I turned to my friends. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work? I mean, we just killed the him."

"We'll just hope for the best," I responded.

I took the pearls out of my pocket, the three milky spheres the Nereid had given me in Santa Monica. They didn't seem like much for a backup in case something went wrong, but I know better than argue.

"You're right," Annabeth said.

"Yeah, right," Grover agreed.

I looked at them both, and felt really grateful. Only a few minutes before, I'd almost gotten them stretched to death on deluxe water beds, and now they were trying to be brave for my sake, trying to make me feel better.

I slipped the pearls back in my pocket and cancelled out the Mist around us. "Let's whup some Underworld butt."

We walked inside the DOA lobby.

Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking… transparent. I could see right through their bodies.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him.

He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that marched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

I read the name tag. It either spelled Chiron or Charon, and since this is the entrance of the Underworld, my guess it was Charon.

"Charon?" I asked

I looked across the desk. I couldn't see anything in his glasses except my own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a python's, right before it eats you.

"How may I help you little dead ones." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language

"We want to go to the Underworld," she said.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" she asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No "There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

"We were stretched to death by a giant water bed sales man," I responded.

"Procrustes?" Charon asked.

"I don't know, he called himself Crusty," Grover responded.

"Hmm…" Charon checked over his list. "I been informed that Procrustes died not to long ago."

I gulped.

"I guess you three weren't save in time though," Charon said, "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children… alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins," I set three drachmas on the counter, part of the stash we collected from Medusa and Procrustes, and what we got from the camp store and Ares.

"Well, now…" Charon moistened his lips. "Real Drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in…"

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

We were so close.

Then Charon looked at me. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through my chest and then took a sniff. "You're not dead."

"Yes we are," I responded.

"No! You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," I insisted.

Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.

Immediately, all the people of the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."

He started to go for the coins, but I snatched them back.

"No service, no tip." I tried to sound braver than I felt.

Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," I sighed. "We have more to offer."

I held out the entire bag of our stash. I took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through my fingers.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh… just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"We have a lot," I responded, "We been collecting drachmas this whole quest."

That seemed to catch Charon's interest.

"I bed Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raised in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," I agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay."

With each word, I stacked another gold coin on the counter.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

I stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off."

He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon above them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one gets any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," she said. "That's… fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said dead was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

"We'll get out alive," I said.

"Ha."

I got a sudden dizzy feeling. We weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying.

I blinked hard. When I opened my eyes, Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty socket—totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

He saw me looking, and said, "Well?"

"Nothing," I managed.

I thought he was grinning, but that wasn't it. The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, letting me see straight through to his skull.

The floor kept swaying.

Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."

When I blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. We were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx, the river that gave Achilles got his invulnerability except for one of his heels," I said.

"It's so…" said Annabeth.

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

Panic closed up my throat. What was I doing here? These people around me… they were dead.

Annabeth grabbed hold of my hand. Under normal circumstances, this would've embarrassed me, but I understood how she felt. She wanted reassurance that somebody else was alive on this boat.

I fought the urge to pray since the only god down here that would listen is the one who we here to see.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stone—the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than I was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."

He counted our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

We followed the spirits up a well-worn path.

…

I'm not sure what I was expecting—Pearly Gates, or a big black portcullis, or something. But the entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond this tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't see where it was coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades' door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"The EZ DEATH line must lead to the Field of Asphodel," Annabeth said.

"They don't want to risk judgment of court, so they rather wonder around the field," I responded. "I guess it's a good thing mortals don't see the same thing as us."

I noticed a couple of black-robbed ghouls and pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk. I realized that spirit was that televangelist from upstate New York who'd raised millions of dollars for orphanages and then got caught spending money on stuff for his mansion, like gold plated toilet seats, and an indoor putt-putt golf course. He'd died in a police chase when his "Lamborghini for the Lord" went off a cliff.

Those who did really bad things like that get personal attention to the Field of Punishment, while those who got recognition by Olympus as heroes goes straight to the field of Elysium and perhaps one day get reincarnated.

We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at my feet, but I still couldn't figure out where Cerberus was at.

Then, about fifty feet in front of us, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.

I hadn't seen it before because it was half transparent, like the dead. Until it moved, it blended with whatever was behind it. Only its eyes and teeth look solid. And it was staring straight at me.

My jaw hung open. All I could think to say was, "He's a Rottweiler."

I'd always imagined Cerberus as a big black mastiff. But he was obviously a purebred Rottweiler, except of course that he was twice the size of a woolly mammoth, mostly invisible, and had three heads.

The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," I muttered, "Maybe it's because we been down here long enough?"

"Or it's because we're getting closer to being dead," Annabeth moistened his lips.

The dog in the middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living," I said. "Grover, maybe it's time to try plan Orpheus?"

Grover nodded nervously.

The plan was to use how Orpheus bypass Cerberus which was playing music to it. However, the best musician we had was Grover and his reed pipes, so I hope that would work.

Grover started trying to play some calm soothing music, but he must have been really scared because the song came out worse than normal and Cerberus was far from amuse by it.

"Hold on, Grover," Annabeth said. "Let me try something."

Grover was happy to stop playing as Annabeth started rifling through her pack.

Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND DENVER, CO. Before I could stop her, she raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.

She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

Annabeth once told me she had a Rottweiler back home that had to go through obedient school, so I guess I shouldn't be shock that she was trying this, but what shock me was that it was actually working with Cerberus.

All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.

"Sit!" Annabeth called again.

Cerberus licked his three lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hissed as they dissipated, like the air let out of tires.

Annabeth said, "Good boy!"

She threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it!" Annabeth ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at her. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.

"Good boy." She picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.

She turned toward us. "Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster."

I said, "But—"

"Now!" she ordered, in the same tone she was using on the dog.

Grover and I inched forward warily.

Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" Annabeth ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!"

Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was as Grover and I walked between the monster's legs.

We made it through. Cerberus wasn't any less scary looking from the back.

Annabeth said, "Good dog!"

She held up the tattered red ball and probably came to the same conclusion I did—if she rewarded Cerberus, there'd be nothing left for another trick.

She threw the ball anyway. The monster's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, Annabeth walked briskly under its belly and joined us at the metal detector.

We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. Annabeth stopped.

She turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at us.

Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy," Annabeth said, but her voice sounded melancholy and uncertain.

The monster's heads turned sideways, as if worried about her.

"I'll bring you another ball soon," Annabeth promised faintly. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered. I didn't need to speak dog to know Cerberus was still waiting for the ball.

"Good dog. I'll come visit soon. I—I promise." Annabeth turned to us. "Let's go."

Grover and I pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"

Cerberus started to bark.

We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.

A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.

If there's one thing I learned while being down here, everybody—even monsters—needed a little attention once in a while. I thought about that as we waited for the ghouls to pass.

Judging from Annabeth's expression she would agree. Annabeth was wiping a tear from her cheek as she listened to the mournful keening of Cerberus in the distance, longing for his new friend.


	19. We Sort of Find Out the Truth

**We Sort of Find Out the Truth**

Imagine the largest concert crowd you've ever seen, a football field packed with a million fans.

Now imagine a field a million times that big, packed with people, and imagine the electricity gone out, and there is no noise, no light, and no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.

If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like. The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told me they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there.

The cavern ceiling was so high above us it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. I tried not to imagine they'd fall on us at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass.

Annabeth, Grover and I tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. I couldn't help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmered. They all looked slightly angry or confuse. They will come up to speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.

The dead aren't scary. They're just sad.

We crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:

JUDGMENT FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL PUNISHMENT  
Welcome, Newly Deceased!

Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines.

To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas. Even from far away, I could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at a stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. I could just make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top. Tantalus in the middle of a lake with a branch full of food above him, but when he reached up the fruit a strong wind blew the fruits out of his reach, or when he try to get a drink the water would dry away before he could reach it. There even more tortures just as bad or worse.

The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down toward a small valley surrounded by walls—a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the Underworld. Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas and medieval castles and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. I could hear laughter and smell of barbecue cooking.

Elysium.

In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake, with three small islands like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times and three times achieved Elysium.

That's the place I wanted to go to when I died. That's the place all half-bloods wanted to go to when we died. If we earn a place there, it means we have achieved much in our life to be called heroes.

Only thing was that the Field of Elysium was smaller than the Field of Asphodel and Field of Punishment. So few people did good in their lives. Even demigods.

We left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into the Asphodel Fields. It got darker. The colors faded from our clothes. The crowds of chattering spirits began to thin.

After a few miles of walking, we began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three dark batlike creatures: the Furies. I got the feeling They were waiting for us.

"I suppose it's too late to turn back," Grover said wistfully.

"We'll be okay." I tried to sound confident.

"Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested. "Like, Elysium, for instance…"

"Come on, goat boy." Annabeth grabbed his arm.

Grover yelped. His sneakers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward, pulling him away from Annabeth. He landed flat on his back in the grass.

"Grover." Annabeth chided. "Stop messing around."

"But I didn't—"

He yelped again. His shoes were flapping like crazy now. They levitated off the ground and started dragging him away from us.

 _"Maia!"_ he yelled, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. _"Maia_ , already! Nine-one-one! Help!"

I got over being stunned and made a grab for Grover's hand, but too late. He was picking up speed, skidding downhill like a bobsled.

We ran after him.

Annabeth shouted, "Untie the shoes!"

It was a smart idea, but I guess it's not so easy when your shoes are pulling you along feet first at full speed. Grover tried to sit up, but he couldn't get close to the laces.

We kept after him, trying to keep him in sight as he zipped between the legs of spirits who chattered at him in annoyance.

I was sure Grover was going to barrel straight through the gates of Hades' palace, but his shoes veered sharply to the right and dragged him in the opposite direction.

The slope got steeper. Grover picked up speed. Annabeth and I had to sprint to keep up. The cavern walls narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered some kind side tunnel. No black grass or trees now, just rock underfoot, and the dim light of the stalactites above.

"Grover!" I yelled, my voice echoing. "Hold on to something!"

"What?" he yelled back.

He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down.

The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on my arms bristled. It smelled evil down here. It made me think of blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of murder.

Then I saw what was ahead of us and I stopped dead in my tracks.

The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city black.

It was the entrance of Tartarus: the pit of the underworld, literally, and Grover was sliding straight toward it.

"Come on, Percy!" Annabeth yelled, tugging at my wrist.

I nodded and ran with her after Grover.

He was yelling, clawing the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him toward the pit, and it didn't look like we could possibly get to him in time.

What saved him were his hooves.

The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit on him, and finally Grover hit a big rock and the left shoe came flying off. It sped into the darkness, down into the chasm. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but not as fast. Grover was able to slow himself down by grabbing on to the big rock and using it like an anchor.

He was ten feet from the edge of the pit when we caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around us angrily and kicked our heads in protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.

We all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel. My limbs felt like lead. Even my backpack seemed heavier, as if somebody had filled it with rocks.

Grover was scratched up pretty bad. His hands were bleeding. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat style, the way they did whenever he was terrified.

"I don't know how…" he panted. "I didn't…"

"Wait," I said. "Listen."

I heard something—a deep whisper in the darkness. Eventually the sound got louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below us. Coming from the pit.

I uncapped Anaklusmos.

The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.

I could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. As if…

"Magic," I said.

"We have to get out of here," Annabeth said.

Together, we dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. My legs wouldn't move fast enough. My backpack weighed me down. The voice got louder and angrier behind us, and we broke into a run.

Not a moment too soon.

The cold blast of wind pulled at our back, as if the entire pit were inhaling. For a terrifying moment, I lost my ground, my feet slipping in the gravel. If we'd been any closer to the edge, we would've been sucked in.

We kept struggling forward, and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. Something was not happy we'd gotten away.

"What _was_ that?" Grover panted, when we'd collapsed in the relative safety of a black poplar grove. "One of Hades' pets?"

Annabeth had the look that she wanted to nurse the idea, but at this point, I'm starting to wonder if Hades was the thief or the victim.

I capped my sword, put the pen back in my pocket. "Let's keep going." I looked at Grover. "Can you walk?"

He swallowed. "Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes, anyway."

He tried to sound brave about it, but he was trembling as badly as Annabeth and I were.

…

The Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story tall bronze gates stood wide open.

Up close, I saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times—an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls—but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. I wondered if I was looking at prophecies of deaths that had come true.

Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden I'd ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as my fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues—petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs—all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange bloom neon bright in the dark. "The Garden of Persephone," Annabeth said. "Keep walking."

No need to tell me twice. I heard the stories of how Persephone was forced to marry Hades. One bite of the Underworld food, and we would never be able to leave. I pulled Grover away to keep him from picking a big juicy one.

We walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflect torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above. I guess they never had to worry about rain down here.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on their shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16. None of them bothered us, but their hollow eye sockets followed us as we walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine Skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at us, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesman."

My backpack weighed a ton now. I couldn't figure out why. I wanted to open it, check to see if I had somehow picked up a stray bowling ball, but this wasn't the time.

"Well, guys," I said. "I suppose we should… knock?"

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means _entrez-vous_ ," Annabeth said.

Now I seen the throne room of Olympus, and I can tell Hades modeled his own throne room after it. Only difference was there were only two thrones, and since it was summer, only one occupant—Hades.

He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in a black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.

I immediately felt like he should be giving the orders. He knew more than I did. He should be my master. Then I told myself to snap out of it. It wasn't the first time a god's aura affected me and I can tell this is one of those times.

Honestly every time I meet Hades, I can list off the number of demigod children before World War II that was his: Adolf Hitler and Napoleon being two of them. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma.

"You are brave to come here. Son of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

I shake off the feeling of laying down and taking a little nap in front of Hades and said. "Lord and Uncle, I come with a request."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of tormented, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out.

"Only one requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

I swallowed. This was going about as well as I'd feared.

I wished Persephone were here sitting in the smaller throne shaped like a black flower gilded with gold. If anyone could calm Hades down it was her. But it was summer, and Persephone would be above in the world of light with her mother Demeter. Her visits, not the tilt of the planet, created the seasons.

Annabeth cleared her throat. Her finger prodded me in the back.

"Lord Hades," I said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be… bad."

"Really bad, "Grover added helpfully.

"Return Zeus' master bolt to me," I said, "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep this pretense, after what you have done?"

I glanced back at my friends. They looked as confused as I was.

"Um… Uncle," I said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"

The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room blocking the exits.

Hades bellowed, "Do you think I _want_ war, godling?"

I didn't know how to answer that. Honestly I was still debating whether or not Hades was the god responsible.

"War would mean more servants, more sprawl of the Asphodel Field. My kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, the subdivisions I had to open," Hades responded.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Hades was on a roll now.

"More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"

"Charon wants a pay raise," I blurted, just remembering the fact. As soon as I said it, I wished I could sew my mouth shut.

"Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. _No,_ godling. I need no help getting subjects! _I_ did not ask for this war."

"But if you didn't take Zeus' master bolt…"

"Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not stupid," Hades said, "I see his plan."

"His plan?"

" _You_ were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father had you come separately from your camp in secret. You took the master bolt _and_ my helm."

"Lord Hades," Annabeth spoke. "Your helm of darkness is missing, too?"

"Don't play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this hero—"

"Leave my friends out of this!" I responded with anger. "I didn't take your helm of darkness, nor the master bolt! I was confirmed innocent last winter!"

"Lies!" Hades bellowed once more, "You have proof with you in that backpack of yours!"

A horrible feeling struck me. The weight in my backpack, like a bowling ball. I couldn't be…

I slung it off my shoulder and unzipped it. Inside, along with my thermos and everything else I kept in it was a two foot long metal cylinder, spiked at both ends, humming with energy.

"Percy," Annabeth said. "How—"

"I—I don't know. I don't understand. I was with my mom the whole Christmas break and I had this backpack with me since we left camp except-," I responded before it dawned to me, I gave my backpack to Ares before I headed to WATERLAND.

"You heroes are always the same," Hades said. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus' master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now… my helm. Where is it?"

"I don't have it. This is some kind of mistake," I responded.

"Mistake?" Hades roared.

The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there were a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne whips ready.

"There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come—I know the _real_ reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for _her_."

Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm that he was carrying. It exploded on the steps in front of me, and there was my mother, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death, leaving me speechless.

"Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Your personal loyalty is your fatal flaw after all. Now return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

I thought of the pearls in my pocket. Maybe they could get me out of this.

"Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and my blood froze. "Yes, my brother had his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson."

My hand moved against my will and brought out the pearls.

"Only three," Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."

I remember the Oracle's words about a choice made with a sacrifice and I realized this moment was what it meant. I looked at Annabeth and Grover. Their faces were grim.

"We were tricked," I told them. "Set up."

"Yes, but why?" Annabeth asked. "And the voice in the pit—"

"Hard to say," I responded, "But I intend to ask."

"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled.

"Percy." Grover put his hand on my shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt."

"I'm not," I said as I hand out two of the pearls to Annabeth and Grover. Their eyes widened.

"Percy, no… if you—" Annabeth said.

"Don't worry, I have a plan of my own," I smirked.

Annabeth and Grover reluctantly took the pearls as I turned to face my mother. "Sorry, mom, but you'll have to wait a little longer," I apologized before turning to Hades who had a smug look on his face.

"Godling…?"

"I swear by the River of Styx that I'll find and return your Helm of Darkness by time the Summer Solstice ends," I yelled catching even Hades off guard. There was shaking up above indicating that the oath was taken. "Just remember about Charon's pay raise."

That seem to snap Hades out of his confusion. "Do not defy me—"

"And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls."

"Percy Jackson, you will not—"

I shouted, "Now, guys!"

We smashed the pearls at our feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened.

Hades yelled, "Destroy them!"

The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking in full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame.

Just as the skeletons open fire, the pearl fragments at my feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. I was encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.

Annabeth and Grover were right behind me. Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as we floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and I knew it was not going to be a peaceful night in L.A.

"Look up!" Grover yelled. "We're going to crash!"

Sure enough we were racing right toward the stalactites, which I figured would pop our bubbles and skewer us.

"How do you control these things?" Annabeth shouted.

"I don't think you do!" I shouted back.

We screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and… Darkness.

We weren't dead, I could still feel the racing sensation. We were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls, I realized— _what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea._

For a few moments, I couldn't see anything outside the smooth walls of my sphere, then my pearl broke through the ocean floor. The two other milky spheres, Annabeth and Grover, kept pace with me as we soared upward through the water. And— _ker-blam!_

We exploded on the surface, in the middle of Santa Monica Bay, knocking a surfer off his board with an indignant, "Dude!"

I grabbed Grover and hauled him over to a life buoy. I caught Annabeth and dragged her over too. A curious shark was circling us, a great white about eleven feet long.

I said, "Beat it."

The shark turned and race away.

The surfer screamed something about bad mushrooms and paddled away from us as fast as he could.

Somehow, I knew what time it was: early morning, June 21, the day of the summer solstice.

In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades fault. He was probably sending an army of the dead after me right now.

But at the moment, the Underworld wasn't my biggest problem.

I had to get to shore. I had find the god that tricked me, get the Helm of darkness back to Hades, get Zeus' thunderbolt back to Olympus, and what's worse, still find out who was the half-blood that stole them in the first place.


	20. I Battle My War Crazed Cousin

**I Battle My War Crazed Cousin**

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how three kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! And sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even mine after I willed them wet. I was also barefoot, because I'd given my shoes to Grover. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of us was barefoot than wonder why one of us had hooves. I also used our Mist forms on us.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise. I felt as if I'd just come back from the dead—which I had. My backpack was heavy with Zeus' master bolt.

My heart was heavier at the thought of not being able to bring back my mom. I knew that I would have to choose, but I never imagine it would hurt this much afterwards.

"I don't believe it," Annabeth said. "We went all that way—"

"It was a trick," I said, "You get it, don't you?"

She dropped her eyes. "Yeah. I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody—"

"Percy…" Annabeth said, "Are you sure you can retrieve the Helm of Darkness in time to bring back the Master Bolt?"

"We don't have much of a choice," I responded, "If I don't, war will start."

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want that kind of war."

I stopped in my tracks, looking down the beach. "Gee, let me think."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, "Now this won't do—"

Ares snapped his fingers and our Mist forms disappeared. Not really a surprise since the Gods are basically masters of the Mist—except Hecate: Goddess of Magic, she the creator of the Mist.

"No point to hide who you really are at this point," Ares said, "Although you were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," I said. " _You_ stole the helm of darkness and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power—that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use?" I asked. "One of your kids? Clarisse? She normally attend the Winter Solstice."

The idea of amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus' master bolt, Zeus would be mad at _him_. And Hades is still looking for this…"

From his pocket he took out a ski cap—the kind bank robbers wear—and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Grover

I heard screeched above us. The Furies must have found us and just confirmed that Ares had the Helm. Luckily Ares didn't noticed.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three way slugfest going.

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested.

"One of which is your own father!" I responded.

The sky boomed. My guess was Zeus was listening too, and hopefully dad was as well.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

"You charmed my backpack back in Denver," I said. "The master bolt was in there ever since you gave it back to me?"

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, I charmed your backpack to be the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got, kid. It always returns to your pocket right?"

I didn't answer.

"Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades… Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way—no loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" I said. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I… yeah… with that kind of firepower…"

He held the trance for one second… two seconds…

I exchange nervous looks with Annabeth.

Ares' face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing."

"You're lying," I said. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" Smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," I guess. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go.

You kept the item until I was given the quest, and then try to use me to complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

I hesitated. "Who said anything about dreams?"

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk.

"Let's get back to the problem at hand, kid. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at me with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusk and waited for the command to kill.

I stepped into the surf. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter… an uneasiness. "You may act tough kid, but I know you're scared. You don't stand a chance."

"I'm not scared," I responded.

"In your adolescent dreams." But his sunglasses started to melt from the heat of his eyes. "No direct involvement. Sorry, kid. You're not my level."

Annabeth said, "Percy, run!"

The giant boar charged but I didn't run. Instead, as the boar rushed me, I decided to try a move I been working on. I focus on the water around me—imagining a hurricane surrounding me.

Sure enough the sea breeze picked up around me in a cyclone of wind that caused the water to swirl around me like miniature hurricane.

The boar hit the wall and was repelled back.

I ended my miniature hurricane and shouted, "Wave!"

Immediately, a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror was it was pulled into the ocean. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

I smiled, trying to hide and exhausted ness. Anytime I practice using the miniature hurricane, I was drained of my energy. Luckily, since I'm in the water, I wasn't totally drained.

I turned back to Ares. "Are you going to fight me now?" I asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet pig?"

Ares' face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into—"

"Turn me into an animal to squash," I responded. "Sounds more like you're running away from battle. Not very war like for a war god."

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want and take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and return to Olympus to take your punishment that I'm sure your _father_ has planned for you," I responded, "I swear on the River of Styx. What about you?"

Ares sneered.

He swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "Fine! I swear on the River of Styx to agree to your terms. How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"

I took out and uncapped Riptide—allowing it to transform into my sword.

"That's cool, dead boy," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat changed into a huge, two-handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with ruby in its mouth.

"Percy," Annabeth warned. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"I have to. He has the helm of darkness and I made an oath of the River of Styx _in front_ of Hades that I would retrieve it for him," I responded, "There's nothing Ares can do that's any worse than Hades and the Styx combine will do if I break my oath."

She swallowed. Wear this, at least. For luck."

She took off her necklace, which was almost identical to my necklace with the five beads with an exception of her father's college ring; and tied it around my neck.

"Without Athena, my father wouldn't have gotten through Harvard," Annabeth said, "So while you're wearing this, hopefully Athena will be behind you."

My face felt a little warm, but I managed a smile. "Thanks."

"And take this," Grover said. He handed me a flatten tin can that he'd probably been saving in his pocket for the _whole_ quest. "The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover…" I responded.

He patted me on the shoulder. I stuffed the tin can in my back pocket.

"You all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward me, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

"More than you think," I responded. I kept my feet in the surf, backing into the water up to my ankles.

He cleaved downward at my head, but I wasn't there.

I willed the water to push me into the air and I catapulted over him, slashing as I came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again and I was forced to jump onto dry land. I tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares seemed to know what I wanted. He outmaneuvered me, pressing so hard I had to put all my concentration on not getting sliced into pieces so I couldn't focus on the water. I kept backing away from the surf. I couldn't find any openings to attack, and his blade was several times bigger than mine.

I remember all the lessons I had with Luke about how to handle bigger sword. I had to get close to Ares, if I can.

I step inside with a thrust, but Ares was waiting for that. He knocked my blade out of my hands and kicked me in the chest. I went airborne—twenty, maybe thirty feet. I would've broken my back if I hadn't crashed into the soft sand of a dune.

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "Cops!"

I was seeing double. My chest felt like it had just been hit with a battering ram, but I managed to get to my feet.

I couldn't look away from Ares without knowing if he'll slice me in half if I did, but out of the corner of my eye I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

The gruff cop voice: "Looks like that kid on TV… what the heck…"

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup."

I rolled to one side as Ares blade slashed the sand.

I ran for my sword, scooped it up, and launched at Ares' face, only to find my blade deflected again.

Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it. I had no way to the sea right now, but maybe I can bring the sea to me.

"Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying you."

A second cop car pulled up with its sirens wailing. Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among them was the dead. I guess the Furies called in back up just in case I failed.

More sirens.

I stepped closer to the water, hoping Ares would come, and he did and fast. The tip of his blade ripped my sleeve and grazed my forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns! Set them on the ground. Now!"

I noticed that Ares' sword was flickering between a shotgun and a two handed sword. My guess the mortals saw me carrying a gun too.

Ares turned to glare at our spectators, which gave me the moment I need to finish up my plan.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Be gone!"

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming as Ares roared with laughter.

The pressure of the water was now where I need it.

"Hey Ares!" I yelled, "Don't take your eyes off your opponents!"

As Ares turned to me I released the tide and jump over Ares on a six foot wall of water. The wave smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed. I landed behind him with a splash and feinted over his head as I'd done before. He'd turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was disoriented, he didn't anticipate the trick. I change directions, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heel.

The roar that followed made Hades' earthquake looked like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide.

Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boot. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded.

He limped toward me muttering in ancient Greek that I'm pretty sure were curses.

Something stopped him.

It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, and fighting was useless.

The darkness lifted.

Ares looked stunned.

Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Annabeth and Grover stood on the beach, in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares' feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipated in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he told me "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raised your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware."

His body began to glow as he was about to reveal his true form. I turned away before he did for when a mortal or demigod look at a god when they revealed their true form, they disintegrate into ashes.

The light died.

I look back. Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades' bronze helm of darkness. I picked it up and waited for a bit.

It didn't take long for the three Kindly Ones to land on the ground and transform into their grandmother forms.

The middle Fury stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she'd been planning to have me for supper, but had decided I might give her indigestion.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So… it truly was not you?"

I tossed her the helmet, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades, tell him the truth, call off the war, and I'll be checking to see if he kept his part of the deal about my mother _after_ I returned the master bolt," I responded.

She hesitated, then ran a fork tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Percy Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again…"

She cackled, savoring the idea. Then she and her sister rose on their bat wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared.

I joined Grover and Annabeth, who were staring at me in amazement. "Percy…" Grover said. "That was so incredibly…"

"Terrifying," said Annabeth. "Cool!" Grover corrected. I didn't feel terrified. I certainly didn't feel cool. I was tired and sore and completely drained of energy.

"Did you guys feel that… whatever it was?" I asked.

They both nodded uneasily. "Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said.

But I wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing me, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

I looked at Annabeth, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

I reclaimed my backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still in there along with the rest of my stuff.

"We have to get back to New York," I said. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Annabeth said, "unless we—"

"Fly," I agreed. "I'll see about summoning us a Pegasus. By now it should be safe for me to ride on them."

No one argue against that.


	21. All Promises Are Kept

**All Promise Are Kept**

Before we got anywhere the mortal news crew surrounded me demanding what happened. Basically, with a little prayer to Hermes and some Mist Manipulation, I gave them a tall tale that five years ago, my arrogant step-father actually left me waiting at the school yard when I was kidnapped by a mean man and I didn't escape until last school year, and I returned to my mother where I was under protection.

I made it where the man found me at the museum, crashed the mast to force me to come with him but somehow escaped with Grover, but he caught up with us and kidnapped us and kept my mom held captive so I listen to him as we travel cross country to destroy some heavily populated sights. As for my hidden form, well, it didn't take much to explain that. Humans thought it was just another kidnapped kid who probably lost his life in the chaos. I think the gods use the Mist to make it look like the kids the Coast guard picked up was us and that my gun was something I stolen from my kidnapper.

At the end, poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all. Although I heard there might be an investigation to why Gabe didn't pick me up when he was supposed to and then lied about it.

After that, the people of L.A. was happy enough to lend us some cash and personally made sure we made it to the airport, which ruined my plan of getting us some Pegasus, but it was hard to argue against so many generous people.

Takeoff was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. I didn't unclenched my from the armrests until we touched down safely at La Guardia. The local press was waiting for us outside security, but with some quick Mist manipulation and Annabeth's hat of invisibility, we got evade them.

We split up at the taxi stand. I told Annabeth and Grover to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. They protested, and it was hard to let them go after all we'd been through, but I knew I must finish this quest on my own incase something went wrong.

I hopped in a taxi and headed to Manhattan.

…

Thirty minutes later, I walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building.

I must have looked like a homeless kid, with my tattered clothes and my scraped-up face. I hadn't slept in at least twenty-four hours.

I went up to the guard at the front desk—a mortal who could see through the Mist that the Olympians trust to keep the entrance of their home safe. In fact, I wouldn't be surprise is most of the security on this floor was mortals who could see through the Mist.

"Six Hundredth Floor," I said.

He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. It must've been good because the guard took a while to look up. "No such floor, kiddo."

"I need an audience with Zeus."

He gave me a vacant smile. "Sorry?"

"You heard me."

"No appointment, no audience, kiddo. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."

"But he's expecting me," I responded. "I have his symbol."

I slipped off my backpack and unzipped the top.

The guard look inside at the metal cylinder, not getting what it was for a few seconds. Then his face went pale. "That isn't…"

"Yes, it is," I promised. "And I'm sure Zeus would be in an even fouler mood if you don't let me return it to him."

The guard scrambled out of his seat, fumbled around his desk for a key card, then handed it to me. "Insert this in the security slot."

"I know, and make sure nobody else is in the elevator with me," I responded, "This is not my first visit."

I headed to the elevator doors and hit the button. As soon as the doors opened, I entered and after the doors closed, I slipped the key into the slot. The card disappeared and a new button appeared on the console, the red one that said 600. I pressed it and waited, and waited. Muzak played. "Raindrops keep falling on my head…" Finally, _ding_. The doors slid open. I stepped out on a narrow walkway in the middle of the air.

Bellow me was Manhattan, from the height of an airplane. In front of me, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. My eyes followed the stairway to the top of the clouds where it rose a decapitated peak of a mountain, it's summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountain side were dozens of multileveled palaces—a city of mansions—all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires.

Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rosebushes. I could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other. It was almost like an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn't in ruins. It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way Athens must've looked twenty-five hundred years ago.

I been here before and yet still every time I'm amazed by the view.

My trip through Olympus was a daze. I passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at me from the garden. Hawkers in the market offered to sell me ambrosia on a stick, and a new shield, and a genuine glittered weave replica of the Golden Fleece, as seen on Hephaestus-TV. The nine muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered—satyrs and naiads and a bunch of good-looking teenagers who might've been minor gods and goddesses. Everyone seemed to be in a festive mood. Several of them turned to watch me pass, and whispered to themselves.

I climbed the main road, toward the big palace at the peak. As expected, it was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld.

There, everything had been black and bronze. Here, everything glittered white and silver. It didn't take much to figure that Hades modeled his palace to resembled this one since he wasn't welcomed here except on winter solstice. It seemed unfair for him, even if he did help cause some grief for me.

Steps up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.

One thing to know about the throne room, it was several times bigger than a Grand Central Station. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.

Twelve thrones, built for being the size of Hades, were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. I didn't have to be told who were the two gods were that were sitting there, waiting for me to approach. I came toward them.

The gods were in giant human form, as Hades had been, but I could barely look at them without feeling a tingle, as if my body were starting to burn. Zeus, the Lord of the Gods and Thalia's father, wore a dark blue pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. Other than his well trimmed marbled gray and black storm cloud colar beard, and rainy gray eyes, I can see the resemblance between him and Thalia.

As I got nearer to him, the air crackled and smelled of ozone.

The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, and my dad. He still wore the same clothes as he did when we first unofficially met with a leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old time fisherman's. He had the same black hair, brooding look and sea-green eyes as mine.

His throne was a deep-sea fisherman's chair. It was a simple swiveling kind, with black leather seat and built in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.

The gods weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air. I didn't know it was because they finally got their answers from Ares—or at least most of it—or it was because they were just finishing an argument.

I knelt at both my father and uncle's feet. "Lord and Uncle Zeus," I said, not wanting to relive my first winter solstice here when Zeus took offense to me addressing my father first while at the same time realizing he was the stranger that talked to me at Montauk. Then I turned to my father. "Father."

"Manners slowly improving I see," Zeus grunted.

"Yes sir. And I thank you for letting my friends and I go in your domain," I responded.

"If I had my ways, you would have been blasted out of the sky," Zeus said.

"Then you would have destroyed your Master Bolt, and all of Percy's hard work to return your bolt was for nothing," Poseidon responded, "Now, let's here his side of the story."

Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided.

"Perseus," Poseidon said. "Look at me."

I did and I wasn't surprise at what I saw. Although my dad was trying to hide it, I saw pride and approval from his face, like a exceed his expectations through this whole quest.

"Ares told us his side of his story _after_ he was forced to follow his part of the agreement between you two—with an exception of who the thief is," Poseidons said. "Although I doubt you know who it is yourself yet, we want you to tell us your story."

I nodded and told them everything, just as it happened. I took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the Sky God's presence, and laid it at his feet.

There was a long silence, broke only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a twenty-foot javelin of arching, hissing energy that made the hairs on my scalp rise.

"I sense the boy tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But still… that Ares would do such a thing… it is most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon said. "It runs in the family."

I wasn't surprise Zeus thought that way about Ares. If I had a son who I knew his whole entire life and then some acted that way, I would think the same way. But I need to speak up.

"Lord?"

They both said, "Yes?"

"Ares didn't act alone. Someone else—something else—came up with the idea."

I didn't want to be blunt with who I think it is, but I described my dreams, and the feeling I'd had on the beach, that momentary breath of evil that seemed to stop the world, and made Ares back off from killing me.

"In the dreams," I said, "the voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war."

"You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus asked.

"No, Lord Zeus," I said, "I've been in the presence of Hades. This feeling on the beach was different. It was the same thing I felt when I got close to the Entrance to Tartarus. Something powerful and evil is stirring down there… something even older than the gods."

Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a intense discussion in Ancient Greek so fast I was only able to catch one word, _Father_. Which might confirmed my worse fear.

Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily. "We will speak of this no more," Zeus said. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from it's metal."

He rose and looked at me. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much. I see why my daughter befriended you five years ago."

"I had help, sir," I said. "Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase—"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I still don't trust you Perseus Jackson. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live. But do not presume to fly on anything but a Pegasus again."

Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.

I wasn't surprise by Zeus' last words. He'd been giving the same threat to me since I first came to Olympus.

"Sometimes I think your uncle should be the god of theater," Poseidon sighd.

"Father," I said, "The voice in the pit, was that Kronos?"

Even in the throne room of Olympus, far away from Tartarus, the name _Kronos_ darkened the room, made the hearth fire seem not quite so warm on my back.

Poseidon gripped his trident. "As you know Percy, in the First War, Zeus cut our father Kronos into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had done to his own father, Ouranos. Zeus cast Kronos' remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. The Titan army was scattered, their mountain fortress on Etna was destroyed, their monstrous allies driven to the farthest corners of the earth. And yet, Titans cannot die, any more than we gods can. Whatever is left of Kronos is still alive in some hideous way, still conscious in his eternal pain, still hungry for power."

"From time to time, over the eons, Kronos has stirred. He entered men's nightmares and breathes evil thoughts. He wakens restless monsters from the depths. But we can never tell if he will rise. Sadly Lord Zeus closed the discussion on this matter. He will not allow talk of Kronos in fear that it might stir him."

"But if he's been stirring all this time, then wouldn't not talking about it just prolong the inevitable?" I asked.

Poseidon smiled at me.

"You been hanging around Athena's daughter so much I think she been rubbing off on you, Percy," Poseidon said which was his fatherly way of saying I'm over thinking things while throwing in my friendship with Annabeth with it.

Poseidon shimmered down to the size of a regular man standing in front of me.

"Take the time to enjoy yourself Percy. You and your friends completed a quest that only few been able to do," Poseidon told me as he placed his hand on my shoulder. "Also, you would be happy to know Hades kept his end of the bargain."

I stared at him in shock, "Really?"

"You'll find her at home. Hades sent her when you recovered his helm. Even the Lord of Death pays his depts," Poseidon responded, "Just remember Percy, don't let your past decisions cloud your future judgements."

"W-what do you mean?" I asked.

"Let's just say there are times I wonder what would happened if I had waited to claim you in order to protect you," Poseidon responded. "But there are times you make me glad that I made the right choice five years ago."

I smiled while trying to hold down my embarrassment. "Thank you, dad."

I bowed and headed out to leave the city of the gods with a smile on my face.

…

Fifteen minutes later I was back on the streets of Manhattan.

I caught a taxi to our apartment, rang the doorbell, and there she was—my beautiful mother, smelling of peppermint and licorice, the weariness and worry evaporated from her face as soon as she saw me.

"Percy! Oh, thank goodness. Oh, my baby."

She crushed the air right out of me almost like what happened five years ago. We stood in the hallway as she cried and ran her hands through my hair.

I'll admit it—my eyes were a little misty, too. I was shaking, I was relieved to see her.

We headed into the apartment and she told me how she just appeared at the apartment that morning. Poseidon left her a note to her saying he kept the landlord from selling the apartment and that I should be coming home later that day but never went into details after that. She didn't remember anything since the Minotaur. She been going out of her mind with worry all day because she hadn't heard the news.

When she was done, I told her my own story. I tried to make it sound less scary than it had been, but it wasn't easy. I left out the part about our theory about Kronos or part of the reason she was here was because I made an oath on the river of styx in front of Hades himself. When I told her about the story I told the news people she laughed.

"That explains why the police visited earlier," mom replied. "I went ahead and press charges for making fake accusation on you. We might have to go to court."

"Anything to get Gabe out of our hair," I responded.

As I said that, I remember a promise to myself that if Annabeth's cash card works on the taxi I would give my mom mine. I also remember how much I wanted to help my mom achieve her dreams, and that Cash Card might be the answer if my mom take it.

"Mom, what would you say if I tell you that on my quest I got something that can cover our school expenses? Both of ours," I responded.

My mom looked at me skeptical.

"Percy, you didn't steal, did you?"

"No!" I responded. I slipped off my backpack and pulled out my Lotus Cash Card. "This is a Lotus Cash Card, from the Lair of the Lotus Eaters' recent base at the Lotus Casino in Vegas. It has endless amount of money and can be used as a debit card, I seen Annabeth used hers outside the Casino herself."

"Percy—"

"I'm not saying to use it to quit your job and move up in upper class—it would create too much questions and the Lotus Casino doesn't need any more _customers_. Just to help you get through college and when I do come home for the school year to pay for my schooling," I said, "Other than that we can lock it up for emergencies."

My mom looked at me skeptical but took the debit card. "I'll lock this up and only use it for schooling and emergencies and I won't use it for anything else."

I smiled as she rubbed her hand through my hiar.

"I take it you want to go back to camp?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, but only for the summer," I responded. "Maybe join Camp Half-Blood's field trip to Olympus next winter solstice meeting to make sure I don't get blamed for anything else."

"Sounds like a good plan for me," mom agreed.

We laugh as we spend as much mother-son times as we could before I had to go back to camp.


	22. The Prophecy Comes True

**The Prophecy Comes True**

Annabeth Grover and I were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led the procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls—I told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched me to shut up.

Being the son of Poseidon, I didn't have any cabin mates, so the unclaimed and minor godlings along with Luke from Hermes Cabin worked together to put together a sea blue shroud with dolphins and other sea stuff on it with a Trident in the middle. From what I heard it was as thanks for all the effort I put in to help the unclaimed try to get the recognition from their Olympian parent to be claimed. It was a shame to burn their efforts.

As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, I was surrounded by my friends from Hermes' kids, Athena's kids, and satyrs, with an exception of Luke for some reason. Although that didn't bother me as much as the reason the Satyrs were only sitting with me was because they were admiring Grover's brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past."

Of course the only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabin-mates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive me for disgracing their dad.

That was okay with me.

Even Dionysus' welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits, which is good because his sons welcomed me better than Dionysus' speech. There's already rumors going around of what this year's bead will be.

I moved back into cabin three, and had the best sleep in a long time. The next day I visited Thalia's tree to pay my respects.

As for my mother, she send me a letter a week after I got back to camp. Her new _debit card_ that I gave her did worked in Manhattan and she might be able to finish her schooling early since she now can pay student loans as a full time student. She also found me a good private school that gets off on winter break before the winter solstice. Of course she made sure it had a swim team so I can continue feeling like a _normal_ kid in school. She also told me that after she picked me up from camp, instead of going straight home, she decided to travel south to Montauk for a few days stay as an early birthday present.

On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for the annual fireworks display by Hephaestus' kids. Of course, being the children of the god of forge, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. Each blast would sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors.

Normally Luke joined Annabeth Grover and me in watching it, but he said he was going to be busy elsewhere, which kind of bummed me out. After talking with my dad and thinking about it, I decided to tell Luke about my dream vision about his parents and what really happened to his mother. Mostly because I'm still worried about the idea that my evil grandfather who was the king of the Titans might rise.

It wasn't just Luke that wasn't able to join us though. While Annabeth and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human.

"I'm off," he said. "I just came to say… well, you know."

I tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying good-bye. I'd known Grover for five years, and like Luke, Grover became like a brother to me.

Annabeth gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on.

I asked him where he was going to search first.

"Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan…"

"We understand," Annabeth said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?"

"Yeah."

"And you remember your reed pipes?"

"Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat."

But he didn't really sound annoyed.

He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway—nothing like the little runty boy he used to be.

"Well," he said, "wish me luck."

He gave Annabeth another hug. He clapped me on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes.

Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean Lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware, Hariet Tubman: daughter of Hermes leading slaves to Freedom.

"Hey, Grover!" I called.

He turned at the edge of the woods.

"If anyone can find Pan, I know you can!" I yelled, "The first satyr who found two children of the Big Three in decades!"

Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

"We'll see him again," Annabeth said.

I tried to believe it. The fact that no searcher had ever come back in two thousand years… well, I decided not to think about that. Grover would be the first. He had to be.

…

July passed.

I spent my days devising strategies for capture-the-flag game and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares' hands and maybe help us against Artemis' hunters the next time they visit. I like to see Zoё Nightshade try to get pass my new power to create hurricanes.

The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner to the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads—a stormy gray bead with a lightning bolt in the middle of it.

"The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the quest for the master bolt—the first quest completed in a long time!"

The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares' cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause.

I'm not sure I'd ever felt so happy in my life. My first quest gets commemorated in a bead. Maybe in the future Annabeth will get a quest that would be commemorated so that both of us and Luke would have a commemorated quest.

…

The next morning, I found a form letter on my bedside table. I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong. It's the same one I been getting for the past six years now—with the exception that only since Dionysus join us that our names filled out is wrong:

Dear  Peter Johnson ,  
If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or die a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinterated in the lava pit.  
Have a Nice day!  
Mr. D (Dionysus)  
Camp Director, Olympian Council #12

I doubt my stuff will be incinerated. Hal's book was still here in my cabin. Anyways, I already decided to go home.

…

After I was packed up to go home, I decided to go to the sword arena for one last sword practice in camp for the rest of the year.

The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and makeup kits over the hill, where the camp shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the airport.

I got to the sword-fighters arena and found that Luke had had the same idea. His gym bag was plopped at the edge of the stage. He was working solo, whaling at battle dummies with a sword I'd never seen before. It must've been a regular steel blade, because he was slashing the dummies' head right off, stabbing through their straw stuffed guts. His orange counselor shirt was dripping with sweat. His expression was so intense, his life might've really been in danger. I watched as he disemboweled the whole row of dummies, hacking off limbs and basically reducing them to a pile of straw and armor.

Finally, he saw me, and stopped mid-swing. "Percy."

"Um, sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"It's okay," he said, lowering his sword. "Just doing some last minute practice."

Now that his sword wasn't swirling around, I could see something odd about it. The blade was two different types of metal—one edge bronze, the other steel.

Luke noticed me looking at it. "Oh, this? New toy. This is Backbiter."

I wanted to ask if Hermes gave it to him but instead, "Backbiter?"

Luke turned the blade in the light so it glinted wickedly. "One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. Work on mortals and immortals both."

I thought about what Chiron had told me a thousand times—that a hero should never harm mortals unless absolutely necessary.

"I didn't know they could make weapons like that."

" _They_ probably can't," Luke agreed. "It's one of a kind."

He gave me a tiny smile, then slid the sword into its scabbard. "Listen, I was going to come looking for you. What do you say we go down the woods one last time, like we use to do?"

I don't know why I hesitated. We use to do this after we first came here. It was like our own little bro-time.

"Come on." He rummaged in his gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. "Drinks are on me."

"Sure," I finally responded. "Why not?"

We walked down the woods and kicked around for some monsters to fight, but it was too hot. All monsters with any sense must've been taking siestas in their nice cool caves.

We found a shady spot by the creek where Clarisse and I had taken down that Hellhound. We sat on a big rock, drank our Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods.

After a while Luke said, "You missed being on a quest?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "You?"

A shadow passed over his face. He looked weary and angry just as he had the night Thalia turned into a tree. His blond hair was gray in the sunlight. The scar on his face looked deeper than usual. I could imagine him as an old man.

"Did you ever feel that after the quest it was like, 'Okay, ride's over. Have a nice life?"

"Well, no, not really," I responded.

He crumpled his Coke can and threw into the creek, which really shock me. One of the first things you learned at Camp Half-Blood is: Don't litter. You'll hear from the nymphs and the naiads. They'll get even. You'll crawl into bed one night and find your sheets filled with centipedes and mud. Probably where Travis and Connor got the idea of pouring spiders into Cabin Six from.

"The heck with laurel wreaths," Luke said. "I'm not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic."

"You make it sound like you're leaving."

Luke gave me a twisted smile. "Oh, I'm leaving, all right, Percy. I brought you down here to say good-bye."

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at my feet. Out crawled something glistening black, about the size of my hand. A pit scorpion.

I started to go for my pen.

"I wouldn't," Luke caution. "Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. It's a stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You'll be dead in sixty seconds."

"Luke, what—"

Then it hit me.

 _As another friend's fate will come to order_. Hal's prediction for Luke involved betrayal.

"Luke, no," I responded, "You didn't—"

He stood calmly and brushed off his jeans.

The scorpion paid him no attention. It kept its beady back eyes on me, clamping its pincers as it crawled on my shoe.

"Didn't you feel it, Percy—the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn't you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics—being pawns of the gods. They should've been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they've hung on, thanks to us half-bloods."

I couldn't believe this was happening.

"Luke… you're talking about our parents," I said.

He laughed. "You met my dad, Percy. You of all people should know he didn't care about me."

I wanted to argue, as the memory of my dream vision was replaying in my head.

"Their precious 'Western civilization' is a disease, Percy. It's killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest. Honestly, Percy, if I could, I would make you and Annabeth see things my way. But I'm afraid my master won't give you that long to decide."

The scorpion crawled onto my pants leg.

There had to be a way out of this. I needed time to think.

"Y-you're serving Kronos, aren't you?" I asked.

The air got colder.

"You should be careful with names," Luke warned.

"You stole the master bolt and the helm for him. He spoke to you in your dreams."

Luke's eye twitched. "He spoke to you, too, Percy. You should've listened."

"He's brainwashing you, Luke."

"You're wrong. He showed me that my talents are being wasted. Especially since the quest to the Garden of the Hersperides, where I got this"—he pointed at his scar—"and when I came back, all I got was pity. I wanted to pull Olympus down stone by stone right then, but I bided my time. I began to dream Kronos. He convinced me to steal something worthwhile, something no hero had ever had the courage to take. While you were enjoying the holidays with your mother, while the rest of the campers were asleep, I snuck into the throne room and took Zeus' master bolt right from his chair. Hades' helm of darkness, too. You wouldn't believe how easy it was. The Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is horrible. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms rumbling, and I knew they'd discovered my theft."

The scorpion was sitting on my knee now, staring at me with its glittering eyes. I tried to keep my voice level. "And then Ares caught you, and Kronos had to convince him to help you."

"Well, actually I spoke for Kronos, but it worked out," Luke drew his new sword. He ran his thumb down the flat of the blade, as if he were hypnotized by its beauty. "Afterward, the Lord of Titans… h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told you would be given a quest where Ares will trick you to bring the master bolt and helm to Tartarus."

" _You_ summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest."

"We had to make Chiron thing the camp wasn't safe for you, so he would start you on your quest. We had to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked."

"The flying shoes were cursed," I said. "They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into Tartarus."

"And they would have, if you'd been wearing them. But you gave them to the satyr, which wasn't part of the plan. Grover messed up everything he touches. He even confused the curse. If you had gone to Tartarus, Kronos could have convinced you to help him, now you'll have to die for your foolishness."

"Thalia gave her life for us, for you," I said gritted my teeth. "And this is how you repay her?"

"Don't speak of Thalia!" he shouted. "The gods _let_ her die. Just as they let Hal die! That's one of the many things they will pay for."

"You're being used, Luke. Don't listen to Kronos."

" _I've_ been used?" Luke's voice turned shrill. "Look at yourself. The gods used you to find their missing symbols, to fight for your life. Kronos will rise. You've only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest—the ones who served him. Now my lord is waiting, and he's got plenty of quest for me to undertake."

"Luke—"

"Good-bye, Percy. I had hopes you would be part of the new Golden Age that is coming. Maybe if you somehow survive, there's hope."

He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

The scorpion lunged.

I swatted it away with my hand and uncapped my sword. The thing jumped at me and I cut it in half in midair.

I was about to congratulate myself until I looked down at my hand. My palm had a huge red welt, oozing and smoking with yellow gunk. The thing had gotten me after all.

My ears pounded. My vision went foggy. The water, I thought. It healed me before.

I stumbled to the creek and submerged my hand, but nothing seemed to happen. The poison was too strong. My vision was getting dark. I could barely stand up.

 _Sixty seconds,_ Luke had told me.

I had to get back to camp. If I collapsed out here, my body would be dinner for a monster. Nobody would know what had happened.

My legs felt like lead. My forehead was burning. I stumbled toward camp, and the nymphs stirred from their trees

"Help," I croaked. "Please…"

Two of them took my arms, pulling me along. I remember making it to a clearing, a counselor shouting for help, a centaur blowing a conch horn.

Then everything went black.

…

I woke with a drinking straw in my mouth. I was sipping something that tasted like liquid chocolate-chip cookies. Nectar.

I opened my eyes.

I was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the Big House, my right hand bandaged like a club. Argus stood guard in the corner. Annabeth sat next to me, holding my nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on my forehead.

"Here we are again," I said.

"You idiot," Annabeth said, which is how I knew she was overjoyed to see me conscious. "You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing…"

"Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit."

He was sitting near the foot of my bed in human form which was why I hadn't noticed him yet. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved."

"Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened."

Between sips of nectar, I told him the story.

The room was quiet for a long time.

"I can't believe that Luke…" Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I _can_ believe it. May the gods curse him… He was never the same after his quest."

"This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once."

"Luke is out there right now," I said. "I have to go after him."

Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—"

"This isn't about the Titan of Time, this is about Luke not understanding the whole story," I responded.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth responded.

"I know what happened to his mom," I said.

Chiron paled. "How?"

"In a dream vision… after we met her," I responded, "It's the reason I tried to stay away from the attic up until my quest."

"What do you mean?" Annabeth responded.

Chiron went into explanation of how May Castellan tried to take possession of the spirit of Delphi after Luke was born and how it led to her insanity.

"Luke never knew, he blamed Hermes for everything, but in reality, Hermes was trying to protect him," I responded. "Cause of it Luke hated his father and after what happened to Hal, and to Thalia plus failing his quest, Kronos was finally able to break through to him."

"Maybe so Percy, but you're in no condition to do anything right now," Chiron said, "The most you can do is train, overcome any attempt Kronos will try to cloud your thoughts. Do not give him what he wants. Now I must go to Olympus. I managed to talk Dionysus to let you stay another day before going home, or wherever your mother has plans."

I wanted to protest, but Chiron ended the discussion there.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you."

He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear… whenever you're ready, they're here."

"Who's here?" I asked.

Nobody answered.

Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time.

Annabeth studied the ice in my drink.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Nothing." She set the glass on the table. "As you know, I took your advice and been contacting my dad."

I nodded as I seen her done it myself. "You're going home for the school year, aren't you?"

Annabeth nodded. "He's waiting for me right now, at the base of Half-Blood Hill."

"I wish you good luck," I responded, "And if you decide to run away again, you know you're welcome at the Jackson's residents."

"Thanks," Annabeth responded. "Be sure to Iris message me."

"Whenever I get the chance," I responded, "Next summer, we'll get a quest and try and get Luke back."

"Yeah," Annabeth agreed. "Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told me. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl."

I watch her leave the room to join up with her family. I have a feeling she was going to pay Thalia respect before she did.

 _I promise you, Thalia, I will save Luke from Kronos,_ I thought.

* * *

 **A/N:** That's the end of this story. Thanks for reading this, and if you haven't read it before this story please read The Tales of the Son of Poseidon The Early Adventures

 **Sequel...**

The Tales of the Son of Poseidon and the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters

 **Summary:** First my mom and I find and adopt my homeless half-brother Cyclops name Tyson, then I had dreams of Grover getting captured, then I found out Thalia's tree been poisoned and Chiron been wrongfully blamed and replaced by a children-eating demigod. Now Annabeth, Tyson and I have to try and team up with Clarisse to find the Golden Fleece that will save Thalia's tree and the camp while at the same time saving Grover from the most infamous cyclops known after the elder Cyclops in the Sea of Monsters.


End file.
